


Last Dance

by ABL012, danny_boy



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Character Death, Drug Abuse, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon-centric, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Minor Character Death, Multi, Past Jiyong/Youngbae, Sad, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, YG is a dick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABL012/pseuds/ABL012, https://archiveofourown.org/users/danny_boy/pseuds/danny_boy
Summary: Kwon Jiyong, leader of legendary K-POP group BIGBANG, had it all. Key word; Had. Upon facing a string of horrific tragedies, Jiyong falls from grace and finds himself in his own living hell.
Relationships: Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Dong Youngbae | Taeyang/Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Dong Youngbae | Taeyang/Min Hyo Rin, Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon/Original Character(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue

Jiyong awoke to a noisy beeping somewhere in his room. Vaguely, he could see his phone outline in his dark room and reached over to see why in the hell it was going off. When Seungri's name came across the screen he remembered and swiped to answer.

"Why do you always have to catch such early flights?" Jiyong grumbled into the phone as soon as he put it to his ear.

"In my defense, I tried to call you an hour ago, but you're impossible to wake." Seungri cheerfully responded.

Jiyong could hear the usual airport noise in the background. People talking, beeping intercoms, noisy children. He couldn't be fazed, he was too busy trying to find the time.

Jiyong sighs and sits up, running his hand through his black fringe. "Are you sure you wanna leave? It's not too late to come back.."

It wasn't hard to catch Seungri's sharp intake of offended breath. Jiyong mentally curses himself for even saying anything as he pulls himself out of bed, but it needed to be said.

"Why do you hate my friends?"

Jiyong holds the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulls on yesterday's jeans and shoes before leaving his bedroom.

"I don't hate them, Seunghyun. You're my brother and I just want to look out for you... Why is that so hard to understand?"

Seungri sucks in another breath and lowers his voice. "They're not even bad."

"They influence you poorly, Seunghyun, that's all. I'm not saying they're horrible people, I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Jiyong leaned against the counter in his kitchen and pinched the bridge of his nose. He loved the maknae, but he tended to get on his nerves. It was far too early for an argument. 

"All they've done is be there for me."

"Have I not been there for you?" He asked incredulously.

Seungri was silent on the other line, which was unlike him. Jiyong thought he may be thinking about his words for once instead of saying the first thing he thinks of. And then Jiyong can hear the roar of something in the background, and screaming.

"Seungri? Seunghyun!"

"Ji, I'm running, there's a plane~"

Jiyong can feel the panic rising up inside of him as he hears a clatter he can only imagine to be Seungri's phone falling on the floor. And then a much louder noise, and then silence when the line cuts off.

In his panic, he frantically pulls on a shirt while he desperately tries to call him back. When he gets nothing he calls Youngbae, and then YG, explaining that something has happened to Seungri and that he's on his way to the airport to find him.

Jiyong receives several text messages on the way there, mostly from Youngbae to say that he and Daesung will meet him there and that Seunghyun is also on his way.

When he arrives at the airport, he can feel his heart sinking. For the most part it looks normal, until your eyes land on the plane sticking straight out of the side of the building and the ruin lying around it.

The police were already in the process of closing the perimeter, but Jiyong desperately pushed his way through. "Please, my friend was in there! Please I have to get him, please!"

One officer looked to another, and then a third approached. Worried he was going to get arrested or worse, he stepped back before the third officer informed him that they were working on gathering a search party to find anyone and everyone trapped inside.

Jiyong desperately pleaded to let him and his friends to join when they arrived, and against what was probably policy and his better judgement, the officer agreed and Jiyong was allowed through the barricade.

He stood by himself for a long while, before he heard a chorus of people calling his name. To his left, over the barricade he'd come in from were his friends, waving to him.

The officer from before allowed them all inside and Daesung threw himself forward into Jiyong's arms.

"Do we know what happened? Is he okay?"

Sadly, all Jiyong could do was rub Daesung's back. "Apparently the plane's landing gear broke during touchdown and that caused it to curve sideways into the airport."

"Which gate did it hit?" Youngbae asked quickly.

Jiyong looked over his shoulder. "Someone from the airport said it probably impacted gates 9 through 18, why?"

Seunghyun spoke up and grabbed Youngbae's shoulder. "He was boarding from Gate 12 at 9:30."

The four of them all turned to look at the mangled building before them and despite doubting it, they were hoping their friend was still somehow okay in there.

It was almost an hour before they were finally all led carefully inside by the police.

The boys stayed in a group together and started the farthest away from the plane to work their way in. Nobody wanted Seunghyun to trip and fall and knock the whole place over.

As a group they found several people, but none of them could be saved. They were already gone. Every once in a while someone living would be found somewhere else, and they'd be freed and carried out to the paramedics.

In the process of checking the pulse of a woman and her child, someone across the way from them says they've found a man with a strong pulse.

After discovering the woman and her child are both gone, they make their way to the other group and Jiyong can't help but scream.

There, against a tall concrete pillar, seemingly untouched by the debris around him, is Seungri. There's dried blood in his hair and on his neck. The four of them help carry Seungri out and while Seunghyun rides with him to the hospital the rest follow behind.

By the time the group is allowed to be alone in the room, it's dark outside.

Jiyong looks up at the door when Youngbae enters and raises a brow. "Well?"

Youngbae sighs and leans against the wall near the door. "His family are on their way in. They should land in the morning."

"We're not going to leave him alone, are we?" Daesung asks quietly from the floor next to Jiyong.

Youngbae quickly assures him that no, they aren't leaving him no matter what. They all seem very content with the idea, despite this being a quiet hospital room.

Jiyong puts his foot on the edge of the bed and leans on his hand while looking at his phone. He bookmarks the article about the plane crash. He copies the link to YG's confession that Seungri was, in fact, hurt in the accident and is now hospitalized.

Jiyong pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. His hands were starting to shake. He didn't want to cry here, he couldn't.

He couldn't be weak here. The boys needed him. Seungri needed him, although... they'd fought, and Jiyong knew it. He needed Seungri to wake so he could apologize.

Daesung watched Jiyong take in his shuddering breaths and took note of his trembling fingers and gently rested his hand on Jiyong's knee.

His hyung startled but then looked down at him with a soft smile and a nod. Daesung knew he wasn't okay, but he wasn't going to press. He removed his hand and rested his head there instead. He closed his eyes when Jiyong started carding his fingers through his hair.

Early in the morning, somewhere around 2, Jiyong is the only one still awake. He insisted on staying up in case something happened.

Seunghyun was curled up against the wall to his right. He didn't know how a man so big could make himself so small. Jiyong had covered him with his jacket about an hour ago.

Daesung and Youngbae were leaning against each other on the couch. It was the only way they managed to get comfortable enough to sleep.

When Jiyong finally stood to stretch, he heard rustling nearby and turned to see Seungri opening his eyes for the first time all night.

"Ji..." Seungri croaked out when he saw his hyung.

Jiyong, overwhelmed, sat on the edge of the bed and took Seungri's hand. "Get enough beauty sleep?"

Seungri laughed and smiled, and Jiyong felt a weight on his chest like he never had before.

"Seungri, I... You wouldn't believe just how so-"

_"Seungri!"_

Jiyong looked up to see Daesung jogging over. The noise startled Seunghyun awake and Jiyong stumbled backwards out of the way to let Daesung take his place and his chest felt even heavier as Youngbae approached him.

He felt Youngbae's hands on his shoulders and melted back into his touch. Youngbae squeezed Jiyong where his numeral tattoo was but said nothing. Whatever conversation they needed to have would be had outside of this room. Preferably outside of this building.

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Youngbae's kind smile. He could tell how Jiyong was feeling. Youngbae always could. At times it could be both a blessing and a curse.

Daesung and Seunghyun were both sitting with Seungri now, and Jiyong began to feel the weight of their last conversation weighing on him finally. Daesung had cut off his apology, but luckily he'd get another chance.

There was a loud grumble and Youngbae laughed when he realized it'd come from Jiyong's stomach. He escorted Jiyong out into the hallway and handed him a bottle of water.

Maybe Jiyong needed to eat, but he also needed to calm the hell down, and being in that room all the time wasn't going to help him do that.

He watched, somewhat helplessly as Jiyong took the water and slid down to the floor with his back against the wall. He kept his feet tucked underneath him like he was in an upright fetal position.

Youngbae was worried, and rightfully so. Jiyong was obviously struggling with more than the fact that Seungri was in the hospital.

"Ji..."

The shaking man spoke quicker than Youngbae thought he would. "It was a goddamn _plane_, Bae. And he's _fine_. He has to be the luckiest person alive... All of those people..."

"Ji it was nobody's fault. There's nothing you could have done for any of those people. We did what we could for who we could. And we got Seungri and he's gonna be fine, okay?"

Jiyong nodded and sipped his water. He just kept nodding to himself all while ignoring his shaking body. He took deep breaths to try and correct the path that his lungs were on currently.

"Hey." Youngbae nudged Jiyong's leg with his foot, hands secured in his pockets. "I think Daesung and Seunghyun can handle Seungri for now. Let's get some sleep, how 'bout?"

Hesitantly, Jiyong nodded and pushed himself up before allowing Youngbae to lead him back into the room where their friends were.

Slowly, since he knew how Jiyong could be about sudden movements sometimes, Youngbae sat down in his previous spot on the couch and patted the spot next to him.

Gently, Jiyong sat down and shifted around enough to rest the back of his head on Youngbae's lap. Once he was comfortable, feet on the couch and arms crossed over his chest, he tilted his head enough that his face was against Youngbae's stomach and was out like a light.

When Youngbae woke, Seungri's parents were standing over their son with soft smiles. Quietly, he apologized that they were still there, although Seungri's mother assured him that they were no trouble.

The maknae, who enjoyed being in the middle, interrupted the end of his mother's sentence to inform Youngbae that the others had just left to get food but would be back shortly.

After asking why nobody woke them, Seungri smiled and simply stated that they thought it best not to disrupt Jiyong's sleep, lest he be angry with them.

Youngbae laughed just as Jiyong shifted and buried his face farther into his shirt. Youngbae says nothing, instead opting to rest his head once more on the back of the couch and casually card his fingers through Jiyong's dark hair.

When the others arrived, they were quiet, so as not to disturb Seungri's time with his family. Nobody wanted to say it, but they were all thinking that if something were to happen and he couldn't go home yet, they didn't want to be the guys to mess up their time together.

Daesung quietly sat on the floor in front of the couch and silently passed food to his hyungs. Gently, Seunghyun shook Jiyong back to consciousness. The tired boy didn't seem to mind, smiling instead at the older member.

Jiyong was careful not to knock into anyone as he sat up and tucked one of his feet underneath him. He thanked Daesung with a soft smile and a ruffle to his curtain of hair. Daesung tilted his head back and smiled in return. 

"How's he been?" He quietly asks the boys around him.

Seunghyun paused. "He seems fine... He said he felt kinda dizzy earlier but the doctor said that's to be expected of the kind of trauma he suffered."

The group glances over to the maknae and his family. His father isn't saying much, instead just letting his wife take the lead on speaking to her son. They couldn't hear a whole lot but they could usually make out things like "I'm glad you're okay" and "we'll go home soon as you're better".

Seungri looked happier than they'd seen him in a couple of months. He was most likely just thankful that he managed to escape with his life. Most people weren't so lucky.

Youngbae didn't like thinking about the fact that Seungri could have easily been one of the corpses pulled from the debris of that airport, like so many others.

Sensing something off about Youngbae's feelings, Jiyong leaned against the older man but said nothing. He didn't need to say anything, Youngbae already knew.

Later in the evening, while Seungri's parents are searching for something to eat finally, all of the boys are sat around Seungri and his bed, joking and laughing and generally taking the piss.

However, they were doing so incredibly quietly. Not only to be respectful to the patients in the hospital, but also courteous to Seungri, who mentioned earlier he had a wicked headache.

Somehow, they managed to make Seungri laugh while still also being quiet. Jiyong thinks it was thanks to Daesung's Gwiomi. Daesung thinks it was Seunghyun's Gwiomi instead. 

Seungri smiles, then slurs as if he'd been drinking, "You guys.... You're so.... Funny."

"Seungri," Daesung started. "Are you alright?"

The maknae nodded and rested his hand on Daesung's leg. "Just dizzy."

"You should probably rest." Seunghyun said softly.

Youngbae and Daesung agreed and promised him they'd come back tomorrow to hang out with him some more, and he was happy to hear that.

"My head still hurts, and I should sleep but... I love you guys and I'll see you all tomorrow."

Jiyong was the last out the door, turning the lights off behind him. He glanced back just long enough to see Seungri softly smiling as he closed his eyes.

Jiyong closed the door finally and stood in the hallway with the others.

"Should we all stay at mine, then?" Youngbae asked softly, Daesung leaning on his shoulder.

They all agreed and made their way there. Though little do they know they wouldn't be getting much sleep.


	2. Chapter 1 // "People Linger in the Past Today."

Jiyong opened his eyes and stared upwards at the ceiling for a long minute before his brows furrowed. For a long moment, he'd forgotten where he was. Looking around the room, he realized he was on Youngbae's couch and Daesung was asleep on the floor next to him. He couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was awake before Daesung for once.

Seunghyun was curled up in the chair across from him, reading a magazine that Youngbae must've had lying around.

"Where's Youngbae?" he mumbled as he stretched. Seunghyun pointed at the kitchen over his shoulder and Jiyong did nothing but nod in response, despite Seunghyun not even looking at him in the first place.

Once he finally sat up he could see into the kitchen and he could easily see Youngbae at the stove cooking. Daesung was usually the one who liked cooking but Jiyong understood that Youngbae might need something to keep him occupied for the time being. He was sure that all of them did, and currently, he was the only one not doing anything with himself other than watching Youngbae cook like a weirdo.

He could hear what was going on in the kitchen just fine, so he instantly caught Youngbae's sharp intake of breath and he was off of the couch faster than he thought he could be. He walked into the kitchen to see Youngbae clutching his hand. Jiyong carefully tugged him over to the sink and ran Youngbae's hand underneath cold water to help soothe the fresh burn on his palm.

Youngbae had tears in his eyes, and Jiyong was sure that the burn hurt pretty bad, but he also knew that Youngbae was tougher than he looked. "Shh, it's alright. It's just a little burn, it'll be gone in no time."

Jiyong was sure that Youngbae's tears weren't for himself, as they usually weren't. Jiyong of all people would understand that about him, and Youngbae was never afraid of being judged by him. It'd be damned awkward if he was worried his best friend would judge him.

"He's going to be fine, remember? You told me so yourself."

Youngbae nodded, but he didn't look so sure. He'd never seen anything like this before, and none of the others could say that they had either. They'd never seen another member of their group like this before, except when Daesung had the flu really bad, but that was a really long time ago now.

But this was their maknae, and he was going to be fine. He always was. He had to be fine this time too, or else what would they do?

"When are we going, Youngbae?"

The older man chewed his lip. "Let's finish lunch first, yeah?"

Jiyong traced his fingers against the palm of Youngbae's hand before pulling away and nodding as he passed his friend a towel.

Together the pair finished lunch for the rest of the group. Their shoulders touched as they cooked in relative silence. Jiyong wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't leave him the way that he needed them to.

"Youngbae..." he finally managed as he stirred the food on the stove.

Already seeming to know what was going to be said, Youngbae shook his head. "Jiyong, please. Now's not the time."

"It never is..." he grumbled before shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated."

"I know. We all are. We'll talk about it, I promise." The older man held up his pinkie and Jiyong couldn't help but laugh a little as he wrapped his own pinkie around that of his friends.

Jiyong excused himself just before lunch was ready to gently wake Daesung from his spot on the floor. Daesung smiled up at his hyung, just as he always did fresh out of bed.

They all are together in relative silence. None of them knew what to say so nobody said anything until Youngbae cleared his throat. "After we finish eating, we're going to head to the hospital."

Seunghyun nodded and so did Daesung. Youngbae told them they'd better wear their coats because it was starting to cool down for the winter.

Daesung argued that it was barely the first of August, but when Youngbae rose his brow the subject was dropped. If Youngbae said it was cold, then it was cold.

After the four boys finally finish eating and clean up after themselves, they pull their hoodies on and make their way out to see Seungri.

The boys are all antsy, and nobody can blame them for being so. They're worried and scared and they have every right to be.

When they finally arrive, they sign in and get their visitor's passes before being allowed into Seungri's room by a nurse Youngbae actually found pretty hot.

Youngbae startes flirting with her and Jiyong scoffed and brushed past him to go into Seungri's room. He would've slammed the door behind him were they not in a hospital.

Seunghyun looked up at the younger member, easily reading the frustration on his face. He rose a brow and Jiyong made a simple motion meant to represent boobs, which he assumed is what had Youngbae's attention.

Seunghyun bit his lip but said nothing, just like Jiyong knew he wouldn't. Youngbae entered a couple of minutes later with that nurse on his heels.

Jiyong didn't look up from Seungri in his bed. This is why they were here, not to flirt with nurses. The nurse looks Seungri over before quickly leaving.

Youngbae looks confused and Jiyong just scoffs. "She has a job to do, she can't stand around and flirt with you all day."

Youngbae rose a brow and then sighed before sitting down. Jiyong was in a mood but it would pass. It always did.

The nurse returns quickly, a doctor on her heels. The doctor takes a moment to try and wake Seungri before asking them all to leave the room, explaining they need to take Seungri for an MRI to make sure there's nothing wrong with him since he's been sleeping for so long.

The boys all sit together in the waiting room, huddled close to one another and holding hands while Youngbae quietly prayed.

Youngbae prayed for the health and safety of their maknae, over and over again for nearly an hour. Their prayer continued until the doctor came back, and even then Youngbae took the time to finish their prayer before they stood and bowed to the doctor to apologize for making her wait.

She assured them that it was not a problem, before telling them what the problem really was.

She properly introduces herself as Dr. Lee, and then she explains to them, rather gently, that sometime during the night, Seungri's brain injury seemed to have caused rapid swelling.

She explains that had they caught it when it started then there would have been more that they could have done for him, but they didn't.

"All we can do for him for right now is attempt to keep the fluid from continuing to flood his brain and hopefully it'll get the swelling back down. We're going to set up life support just in case something happens to the parts of the brain that keep him functioning."

"So, what... Can you do for him? What's being done?" Daesung asked quietly.

She smiled softly, "Some of the best surgeons are going to perform a Ventriculostomy. And what that means is a piece of his skull is going to be cut and a small tube is going to be inserted to drain the fluids."

"Will he feel it?"

She quickly shakes her head. "No, they're going to numb his skull pretty heavily to make sure that even if he wakes up during the procedure, he won't feel it."

That seemed to make the group feel better... Until Youngbae spoke finally.

"So... What are the chances that he'll pull through it?"

She paused. "His chances of coming back from the swelling are pretty good... But if it progresses, he could be left with any number of complications."

"Like what?" Seunghyun asked quickly, tightly gripping Daesung's knee to keep him from interrupting.

"He could be left with seizures, difficulty speaking, memory loss, the inability to walk... any number of things is possible. But what's wrong with him right now is that his injury seems to have put him in a coma."

"A coma? Why didn't you fucking lead with that?" Jiyong exclaimed before quickly apologizing to her.

She assured him that it's alright and that she's seen far worse reactions to less serious news. He apologized a second time and hung his head before taking a breath.

The four of them had a momentary hive mind. It was easy to tell the thought hit them all at once.

"So even if he recovers, he could be a totally different person... He may never perform again." Seunghyun said softly.

Again, she hesitated. "I've seen worse patients make full recoveries but... Depending on the severity of his injury, yes."

"Will he die?" Daesung blurted, only to be flicked on the ear by Jiyong.

"We're going to do everything in our power to make sure that doesn't happen."

"But it's possible?" He blurted again.

"Idiot!" Jiyong scolded as be flicked the younger man again. "He's not gonna die!"

Daesung hung his head and apologized for his negative comment.

Over the course of the next week, the boys continued to visit their friend in hospital. Though, due to other commitments such as work and family, they weren't always able to visit together.

Usually they'd get to visit at least two at a time, sometimes three. Jiyong however, hadn't been able to visit since they heard the news about Seungri's coma.

Today, the 8th of August, would be the first day that he'd been able to visit Seungri since all of the boys had come here on the first. He wasn't sure he was ready to see Seungri again, but it couldn't be so bad if he still wasn't awake, right?

As it turned out, he'd be the first one to visit in two days since all of their schedules were overlapping right now.

When he signs in and gets his pass, he's not fazed to see Dr. Lee standing in the door to Seungri's room. When she sees him come into the area, her face softens and she closes Seungri's door, leaving the pair of them on the outside for the time being.

"It's been a while since you've been here, Jiyong. You're the first one we've seen in a couple of days. Have you heard the news from his parents?"

Jiyong rose a brow and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. "What news?"

She hesitates before asking him to sit down. Confused, he did.

"I've never liked telling family bad news, but it seems nobody else is going to tell you... Seungri's brain activity has ceased."

His brows knit together. "So.. So he's dead?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly. His brain, is dead. His body is still functional thanks to our machines, but... They won't keep him that way forever."

He could feel the terror welling up in him just as fast as the tears did. "He's... He's gonna die?"

She touched his knee. "Maybe not yet, but... if his family decides to let him go then yes. I'm sorry."

A weak sob crawled it's way out of his throat and his hands shook as he looked up at her. "Can.. Can I call my friends? I... They deserve..."

"You're right, they do deserve to know. I'll give you your privacy."

"Can I... Can.." His lips trembled as he motioned pathetically towards the door, but again she nodded

"Of course you can. Go on in and call your friends. Come find me if you need anything else."

He nodded weakly as he pulled his phone from his pocket with his shaking hands. He opens his phone and does the one thing he only does in an emergency situation. He starts a phone call in their group chat.

Seunghyun is the first one to answer the phone, but as is their custom, he says nothing. Daesung answers next, saying nothing but a quiet hello before going silent again.

The moment that Youngbae answered, Jiyong started speaking. "You... He... Seungri. He... He's brain dead... They don't think he'll come back..."

The others were quiet until Youngbae informed them that he was about to walk into a meeting with YG and wouldn't be able to leave for a while. Jiyong said he understood before saying goodbye to Youngbae.

Daesung waited for him to hang up before quietly, sheepishly telling them that his mom had planned the day and that he probably wouldn't get to visit for a couple of hours at the very least.

Again, they said goodbye and Jiyong took a trembling breath. Seunghyun spoke for the first time their call began. "Do you want me to come?"

"I... Would like to be alone with him, for a short while... I can't stay long I... I can't... He..."

"I understand. I can come later if you want."

"Give me... Five minutes? Then text me so I don't lose my mind by staying too long.."

"You know I will. Tell him what he needs to know. I'm sure he can hear you somehow." With that, Seunghyun hung up and so did Jiyong.

With shaking hands, he made his way into the room where their maknae lay unconscious. The machines seemed so loud in this otherwise silent room and he decided that just wouldn't do.

Carefully, Jiyong took Seungri's phone from his pocket and plugged it in before turning Seungri's music on at a low volume. If Seungri could really hear then Jiyong was sure this silence was going to drive him nuts.

"I... I don't want you to die. And that's... Selfish? Because at this rate, surviving might be the worst thing for you and... I don't want you to suffer anymore than you already are... They said your parents are talking about... About letting you go?"

His voice was catching in his throat and it burned like thick whiskey as he took Seungri's hand.

"They don't want you suffering either but I... I don't know what to do without you, Seungri... Seunghyun..."

Jiyong's resolve finally broke and he let a few tears fall as he rested his forehead on the back of Seungri's cold hand. A sob tore through him and his throat felt tight and his chest hurt and he hated it.

"I'm sorry I can't stay, I... This is all my fault and... I don't know if I'll ever see you again after this and... And that's so scary!"

He wiped his face against the fabric on his shoulder before clearing his throat. "You're my brother, Seunghyun, I... I love you. I... I'll come see you again, okay? I'll be back. I'll come back for you, I promise."

He pressed a long kiss to the back of Seungri's hand. And he knew he was imagining it but he could have sworn that he felt Seungri squeeze his hand.

Every single day, for the next 8 days, Jiyong visited Seungri in his room. Sometimes the others would be there, sometimes they wouldn't. But every day he repeated his promise to his brother and every day he returned.

He'd seen Seungri's parents around a lot, but he never knew what to say to them, so he said nothing. He didn't even think he could form real words anymore.

He hadn't had more than a couple hours of sleep in the last week. He didn't want to sleep and miss something important.

He'd heard them talking about what could be done for their son, but their conclusion was always the same: nothing. They could do nothing for him at this rate but pray and hope it worked.

It never did. Youngbae had been praying for days. Right now he was praying over Seungri, as if it would heal him.

Daesung was sitting nearby, head tilted down in prayer as well. This was the first time they'd managed to come together in a couple of days, and they promised to call if anything happened.

Jiyong was sleeping, finally, for the first time in a week. His feet were in Seunghyun's lap while they sat on the couch in Seunghyun's house.

They had been watching a movie, but Jiyong just couldn't keep his eyes open and ended up passed out sitting up, head leaned back against the back of the couch.

He was snoring, but Seunghyun didn't mind so much. If it meant the younger was getting some sleep, then it couldn't bother him.

Early, somewhere around one, Jiyong woke up and went home to sleep properly in his own bed for the first time in a week.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, clothes and jacket still on.

Later, somewhere around four, Seungri's parents and Dr. Lee entered Seungri's room to inform the boys that were there; Youngbae and Daesung, that they'd finally decided to pull the plug.

The two boys begged them to wait for the others, and they agreed they would wait a while longer. The boys went to separate corners and while one called Seunghyun, the other called Jiyong.

Surprisingly, Jiyong was the first to answer through his tired haze. When he heard the news, he said he was on his way and hung up. He all but sprinted outside and clamored into his car.

It would be just his luck that there would be traffic at four in the morning. He cursed the other drivers on the road, wondering where in the hell they could be going so early. They probably wondered the same about him.

After a slow and painful hour had passed waiting for Jiyong to arrive, Seungri's family decides they can't wait any longer. "We don't want him to suffer anymore." Seungri's father says.

Despite knowing what that entailed, they understood. They could only imagine what the toll on Seungri's body was. They didn't want him to suffer either. Someone would just have to break the news to Jiyong.

When Jiyong arrived, he all but sprinted past everything to get to Seungri's room in his panic, but when he got there it was empty. Though once he turned, he saw his friends in the waiting area, their cheeks stained with tear-tracks.

Seunghyun looked up at his friend, and then back to the floor. "We tried to make them wait longer... To give you time."

Daesung sniffled. "They tried but..."

"His family wanted it over with." Youngbae finished. "They've already taken him to the morgue... I'm sorry."

Jiyong sat a few seats apart from his friends and put his head in his hands. Strangely though, he didn't cry. Instead he felt numb. After a few silent minutes, he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Looking up, he saw Dr. Lee with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry we couldn't wait for you... If you wait a while longer, I'll let you visit him one last time."

In no place to refuse, Jiyong simply nodded, and he waited for almost two hours for the others to leave. They tell him to meet them at Youngbae's when he's ready, and he just nods in response.

Not long after they go, Dr. Lee is leading him through the maze of the hospital. The morgue is silent. It doesn't have the bustling noise of the rest of the building, and it makes the events of the day seem to crush him all at once. The numbness he'd been feeling for the last couple hours gradually giving way to a black void of emotion.

The feeling gets worse once Dr. Lee walks up to one of the cold metal slabs. There's a body on it covered by a thick white sheet.

Slowly, she pulls the top of the sheet down to reveal Seungri's face and says she's going to give him some time to say his goodbyes.

The moment the door closed, Jiyong is leaning on the autopsy table in tears. Violent sobs wreck his body as he cries over his lost friend.

"I'm so sorry! This is my fault... I'm so sorry, Seunghyun, it's all my fault... it's my fault! I should have... I should have been here!"

The tears wouldn't stop, and neither could the apologies spewing from his lips. He wishes the floor would open and swallow him up.

"I'm so sorry! I abandoned you... I'm so sorry, you... You deserved a better hyung than me!"

Jiyong wouldn't learn for a long time that even without apologizing, he had Seungri's forgiveness.


	3. Chapter 2 // "Hearts are Bruised."

There's a familiar ceiling above Jiyong's head when he opens his eyes finally. They sting every time he blinks and for a long moment, he forgets why. He wonders if maybe it could be his allergies acting up, but then he remembers that only happens in the spring, and now it's fall and he can hear the noise of the sink running not far away and the endless pinging and vibrating of a phone somewhere close by.

Slowly, the heaviness on his chest sinks in. He thought he could escape it through sleep, but sleeping won't help. He's living in a dream- no, a nightmare- he'll never be able to wake up from. This isn't a book that he can open his eyes from and be thrust back into the real world. This was the real world that the fantasy of a book wouldn't allow him to escape and it was horrifying. His hands were shaking before he'd even moved, and his chest was already rising and falling quicker than it had been just 30 short seconds ago.

Quickly, he sat up and looked around. Youngbae's apartment. He wasn't sure how many times he'd slept in this very place in the time Youngbae had lived here, he just knew it'd been a lot. He'd spent many tired and sleepless nights in this apartment and he wouldn't trade them for the world, but he wished he didn't have to be here now. He didn't want to be here for this reason, ever, but here he was. Here they all were.

He remembers that last night they'd decided to stay here, but he also remembered why. Today was August 19th and the day of Seungri's funeral. Jiyong isn't prepared yet, but that's why they're here. So they can get ready together so none of them have to be alone today.

Youngbae and Seunghyun emerge from the kitchen together, but they don't look like they've made any food. Jiyong doesn't blame them. He hasn't even been hungry since it happened. He can't remember if he'd eaten since then either.

Glancing down, Jiyong spots Daesung curled up in the blankets on the floor, his back touching the couch Jiyong slept on. He looks up towards the two older members and takes a shaking breath. Youngbae nods towards him reassuringly before leaning down to wake Daesung and gently coaxing the tired boy to Youngbae's room where they'll all change together.

Slowly, the four of them make their way there. They don't want to do this. They don't want to do this at all. Seunghuyn grabs his suit from where it hangs and steps into the bathroom. He leaves the door open but steps around the corner. They don't follow.

Jiyong begins to strip out of yesterday's clothes, but he's not focused on the task. He thinks he can hear Youngbae talking, but he can't seem to grasp the words. His body is working to complete the task, but his brain is a million miles away.

_"Why do you hate my friends?"_ he had asked. _"They're not even bad."_

Jiyong wished he'd taken the time to ask him to come back. He wished he'd asked him to delay his flight so he could take the time to properly apologize to his face for what he'd said. he wished he'd taken the time to tell the maknae that he didn't want him to leave yet, even if he was only going to be gone for a week.

His hands begin to tremble as he stares off at a dusty corner where two walls in the bedroom met. His brain, working on autopilot, managed to get him into his dress pants without trouble.

_"All they've done is be there for me."_ he had said.

This may have been true, but it opened a whole other envelope of questions Jiyong would never get to send. When had there been a time that they could have been there for him and he couldn't have? Had there ever been such a time in Seungri's life that his hyung wasn't available when he was needed?

_"Have I not been there for you?"_ he'd asked in return. He never got his answer, and now his racing heart is desperately searching the answer. Would Seungri have said no? Would his lip have trembled as he relayed his problems to the older man? Would he have cursed the older for abandoning him to go on work trips on short notice? Would he have yelled at him and told him off because he was never there for him in the first place? Not even since the beginning?

The possibility that he really never had been there for the youngest started to get to him and his breath caught in his throat and he blinked and Youngbae was there in front of him with a worry-stricken face and then he felt the water he was blinking out of his eyes and the wetness on his cheeks.

It turned out he'd been straight up sobbing for several minutes now and was entirely inconsolable since he wasn't paying attention in the first place. He didn't even realize he'd been crying until now, but now he couldn't stop. He gave a half-assed wave of his hand, trying to tell them that it was nothing, but everyone knew that was bullshit, and Youngbae called him out on it, albeit gently.

Daesung was standing by Seunghyun with terrified eyes. In all the time he'd known Jiyong, he'd never seen the man cry until now. He'd seen him tear up on stage, but never anything like this. Slowly, Seunghyun steps closer to the man.

Jiyong's whole body is shaking uncontrollably and he can't stop sobbing long enough to breathe. Eventually, Youngbae asks; "What's wrong, Jiyong? You can tell us." He could tell there was something else that was bothering Jiyong besides the... painfully obvious reason.

Through his sobs, he eventually manages to tell his friends that the last conversation he had with Seungri was an argument just before the plane flew into the airport. While his body is shaking with the force of his cries, he reaches his shaking hands out towards the wall next to him in order to try and steady himself. "I couldn't apologize!"

"Look at me, Ji..." Youngbae whispers to his best friend. "Just because you argued with him when it happened doesn't mean that what happened to him is your fault. Sometimes things happen and we can't help them or change them, and that's just the way that things are, okay? You know you didn't have to apologize for him to forgive you, because he's got nothing to forgive you for, cause you've done nothing wrong."

After taking a couple of very long minutes with Youngbae rubbing his shoulders, Jiyong finally stops sobbing long enough to take a breath, and from there he's able to shove out the words that'd been trapped inside of him for the last few minutes without escape.

"I don't think I can forgive me... I can't ever take back what I said, and I can't ever change it and I... I have to live with that forever." His hands tremble as badly as his breath. "He doesn't have to live with what I said anymore, but I do."

Youngbae's face falls and Daesung looks at the floor. Gently, Youngbae touches Jiyong's tear-stained cheek. "Seungri forgives you, Jiyong. Even if you can't."

After finally allowing himself to calm down just enough to breathe normally again, Jiyong quietly apologizes to Seunghyun for bringing him to tears - something Seunghyun quickly waved off - and he quietly swears he won't bother them about it anymore. Finally, he goes back to dressing in silence, the only noise he makes is the occasional shuffling around in the area in which he's standing.

Together, the four ride to Seungri's family home in relative silence. The only noise that's made is the occasional cough or the seemingly non-stop vibrations of Jiyong's phone in his pocket. He doesn't want to look at it. If it's a call he doesn't want to talk, and if it's a text it can wait. He knows his mother has tried to get his attention, and so has his sister, but he doesn't know what to say to them.

He knows they'll just ask if he's okay, but he doesn't know if he could tell him the truth. They want him to say that he's okay and he knows it, but he's not okay. He doesn't know if he'll ever be okay again. But he can't tell them that. He's not sure he'll be able to tell anyone that. He doesn't even know if he can tell himself that or if he can let himself believe it.

Finally, beginning to get annoyed, he reaches into his pocket and clicks one of the side buttons to his phone, effectively stopping the vibrations. After a couple of seconds he couldn't stand the curiosity anymore, and he pulls his phone back out of his pocket and wakes the screen. The vibrations were notifications from all over. Mostly texts and twitter notifications. Absently, he scrolled through the notifications on his phone.

His brows furrowed as he tapped on one- one of the hundreds of twitter notifications- and opened the app. His heart sunk even further. It would explain why his family was trying to get hold of him so violently.

Scrolling through his feed, most of the tweets were the same, a long list of _congratulations_ and _happy birthday_ from millions of people that he didn't know, and didn't know him in the slightest. All of these people, in the midst of his despair, took the time to wish him a happy birthday... Jiyong knows it's only because they have no idea what's happened yet, and it'll be hell when they find out.

He doesn't want to tell them. He doesn't want to have to tell them, but he knows he does. He has to. If they don't, then it'll seem insincere. It'll be like they don't care, and they very much do. He takes a shuddering breath and promptly locks his phone and closes his eyes. Resting his head back against the seat, he takes several breaths as slowly as he can manage and waits for his heart to stop violently pounding against his rib cage.

When he opens his eyes, the car is stopping in front of the home of Seungri's family and he swallows his nerves as best as he can. His trembling fingers grasp the door handle before he shoulders it open and steps out, Daesung following swiftly behind. Jiyong rests a reassuring hand on the younger's shoulder. He thinks he can pretend that it's not so bad, but looking up at the home he'd visited many times before he feels like a stranger that shouldn't be allowed to enter.

Will they be upset with him? He wished he could be like the facade he's created, cool and emotionless, uncaring of other's opinions of him... but he knows that he isn't. He cares so deeply what people think of him it's unreal. Right now, above all else, he cares what the parents of his late friend think of him. Do they blame him as he blames himself?

He hesitates outside the front door with his best friends behind him. He reaches for the door handle, then steps back with a shake of his head. Then he feels a hand on his back, and then a second and a third, and he knows that his friends are behind him as always and that they still have his back.

After a short moment or two, he leads the group inside, pushing his hair back out of his eyes as they step over the threshold into the home. The moment they were inside the noise rose to an 11. Everywhere there were people talking and laughing and smiling, some were talking about the weather and the traffic and others were talking about recipes and their plane rides. None of them were speaking of the deceased and that's how funerals were.

Jiyong remembers being shushed at the first funeral he'd ever gone to for mentioning the deceased. He quickly learned that funerals were not for the dead, but for the living, and they were meant to stay that way.

As a group, the four of them made their way to the curtained casket in the living room and formed a line. They gave two 90 degree bows, before giving one of the same to Seungri's parents. Seungri's parents stood, for what may have been the first time in several hours to hug them all. Seungri's father watched on in silence, though his sentiment was channeled through his wife. Through the corner of his eye, Jiyong caught glimpse of Seungri's sister.

When she saw him, she quickly jogged over and hugged him as tight as possible. "Jiyong-oppa, I'm so glad you made it.."

He quickly understood that not only had Seungri considered him a brother, but so did Hanna, and the thought of someone else looking up to him like that, especially someone that looks so much like Seungri, is stressful to him. Quickly, she pulls away and looks up at him. "I've got something I'm supposed to give you."

He nods, and silently follows behind her. He doesn't understand but he won't argue. They walk into the kitchen and she grabs something from a cabinet before turning to him with it. In her hands is a small box, no bigger than his hand, wrapped neatly with a bow and tag attached.

Slowly, he reaches for it, the confusion clearly written on his face. She seems to feel bad, so she begins to explain, but by the time she takes in a breath his fingers are turning over the tag and on it he sees his name in such familiar handwriting he begins to tremble.

"Mom and Dad found it on his kitchen table... They figured he was planning to bring it to you after he got back from his trip... They didn't see why you shouldn't have it still."

He releases the tag and looks down at the box as he rapidly blinks away tears. Quietly he thanks her, and she leaves him to open it if he so chooses. He stares down at it and watches as it begins to shake before he realizes that the shaking is him. His grip tightens on the box as he makes his way back into the main room and towards the front door. He knocks shoulders with some American guy on his way out, but he doesn't take the time to apologize.

He leans against the car waiting outside and takes a couple of breaths before getting in and stuffing the box in his bag. He has to breathe. He has to make himself relax before he can go back inside and he knows it. He's never been good at listening, though, especially to himself. So he forces himself to go back inside, leaving his bag inside of the car. He doesn't rejoin the crowd yet though, instead, watching a group of American boys he recognizes as Seungri's friends.

He watches in displeasure as the group of no more than three of them, walk up to Seungri's casket, forego the bowing, and touch the wood. The sight made him want to throw up out of sheer anger. He knew Seungri's friends had lived in Busan for a long time already, so they should have been informed of funeral customs here. These were not it.

Jiyong suppressed the urge to walk over and smack them all, he couldn't disrespect Seungri's parents like that. He makes his way back to his friends, and they all seem to be having the same thought, but none of them want to speak on it, let alone act.

Jiyong watches with hatred in his eyes as the men continue to act on the same path. They're laughing and leaning against the casket and he can hear them talking about Seungri, telling each other stories about him. Daesung wants to cry, and Seunghyun isn't sure if he should laugh or be angry... Youngbae has settled on disturbing silence.

After nearly an hour of that, the group finally decides to leave and Youngbae takes a breath for the first time in what seems like a long time as the air finally begins to clear of all of the stupidity it was being clouded with before. Jiyong's friends are beginning a conversation of their own, so Jiyong easily excuses himself to follow the Americans outside.

Following them around the corner, he can easily hear them still talking about Seungri. He's not sure what it is that possesses him, be it pure, unbridled rage or just sheer stupidity, but before he can stop himself, he's calling out to them and when they turn, he swings on the one in the middle, easily producing the hardest punch he's ever thrown in his life.

He realizes very quickly, however, that he's tragically outnumbered when the remaining two men grab him by his arms for the first one to punch him directly in the mouth and then again in the gut. He feels the sting in his teeth and the air leaves his lungs, but he's too angry to care. Quickly, he kicks one leg out at whatever he can reach and the heel of his boot connects with a knee somewhere, and then he's dropped on the ground.

He gets up as fast as possible, only to swing and miss, and then swing wildly the other direction and land one in the chest of one of the men. Before he knows it, there's a fist hurtling towards his face again, and then he's back on the concrete getting kicked all over by each of them. He barely tries to defend his face with his arms, settling to use them as a makeshift shield before lunging towards the closest pair of legs and knocking one of the men to the ground below.

Settling on top of the man, he wastes no time in hitting him as hard as possible, as many times as he can manage before he hears a chorus of his name and he's being ripped away from the group by a set of familiar hands.

_"What the hell is the matter with you?!"_ He hears Youngbae yell.

"They're the ones that got Seungri killed!" He screams back gesturing wildly in the direction of the other men, and as soon as the words come out, both groups fall silent. "They're the ones he was leaving to see! They're the reason he was at the airport that day!"

"You think it's our fault?" One of them asks, breathlessly.

"Of course I think it's your fault! You were horrible for him! He was on his way to you and now he's gone!"

His throat hurts from the screaming, and the tears welling up in his eyes don't make it any better. His chest heaves with anger and breathlessness. Behind him, he hears Daesung.

"Jiyong-hyung..." The younger member's voice sounds strained and broken. Jiyong merely shakes his head. Seunghyun can't look up from the ground.

He turns to leave back to the car, but before he goes he stops between Daesung and Youngbae. Laying a hand on Daesung's shoulder, all he says is, "Looks like you're the maknae now."

Jiyong then walks away, leaving the rest of the group alone in stunned silence.


	4. Chapter 3 // "I hope this is all a dream."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been really busy since Christmas is coming and I'm trying to get a job but I haven't forgotten about you!! It's also taken forever to type cause I have acrylics on.

Jiyong shifts in the uncomfortable plastic chair and adjusts his sunglasses on his nose. The lights in this room are too bright, always too bright.

He thought he might be sick. He didn't want to do this, but he couldn't say no. The woman sitting across from him smelled like too much perfume. There was so much maddening silence filling the space.

To his left is Seunghyun, sitting stoically with his hands folded in his lap. His fingers absently fiddled with the hem of one of his gloves. Directly behind Seunghyun was Daesung on a taller chair, face cast downward, long bangs covering his sad eyes. And then, directly behind Jiyong was Youngbae on a similar seat, sitting straight as a rod as his eyes bore holes directly into the back of Jiyong's neck.

The interviewer they were sat across from had put on her nicest looking smile, but somehow it still appeared fake as hell.

"Thank you boys so much for joining me here today. I want to start off by saying that I'm so terribly sorry for your loss." She began. Instantly, Jiyong wanted to tell her that they didn't have a choice about coming here today. He bites his tongue and tries to ignore the empty chair that'd been dragged away from the group.

He scrunches his nose to ensure that his sunglasses are still secured in front of his eyes as Youngbae manages his usual response. "Thank you for having us. It's an honor to be here."

"Although, I'm sure you boys would prefer to be elsewhere, considering the circumstances that brought you to us today." Her smile turns sympathetic, and Jiyong wants to knock her abnormally white teeth out of her mouth.

He shifts in his chair and glances over his shoulder at Youngbae- who looks slightly taken aback- and clears his throat before taking over for the sake of his friends. "It's true, but unfortunately it's not anything that we can change at this point. I think we're all finally beginning to come to terms with..." He glances towards the empty chair and then looks back at her. "With our loss."

She nods slowly as all interviewers do. He feels like she's trying to pick him apart, just like they all do. They all try and they always fail. Her smile picks back up like she thinks she's discovered something and he'd love to see her try. He can hear Daesung shifting in his seat. 

"So, this is your first interview as a quartet. How does that feel?"

Using the same voice as the last question he answered, Jiyong spoke despite wishing he could tell this woman to go fuck herself and let them go home. "It's not a pleasant feeling, I'll say. I think I speak for everyone when I say we were more comfortable as a quintet, really."

"You sound very agitated, Mr. Kwon."

"GD works fine." he delivers swiftly. She looks uncomfortable, but he'd prefer not to be called _Mr._ anything. He hears Daesung shift again, this time accompanied by Seunghyun shifting beside him.

She stares at him for an uncomfortably long moment, as if daring him to look away. He doesn't. He knows what she's doing. He's been doing this back and forth dance with interviewers for 10 years now.

"Okay, then, GD," she starts. She shifts in her seat and puffs her chest out a little. He figures she's going to ask a personal question. However prepared he believed himself to be, nothing prepared him for what she asked him.

"You don't seem too fazed by this tragedy, GD, could you possibly... be glad that he's gone?"

Seunghyun coughs out the water he was drinking, spitting it onto the floor. Jiyong's stomach clenches and it feels like the air has left him as he sees the smile on her face.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, everyone knows you didn't always get along with Seungri. Could you have wanted something like this to happen to him?"

He wants to open his mouth and scream at her. He wants to tell her that although Seungri and he didn't always get along, he still loved the little shit with everything he had. That was one of his best friends and one of his brothers and the thought that anyone could believe he didn't care about him just because they argued made his chest hurt.

He wants to tell her off and tell her that he hopes she gets fired, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. She seems to think she's won until Youngbae violently shoots up from his chair.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Have you no compassion?!"

She looks taken aback, and as Jiyong stares into the distance he feels Youngbae's strong hand on his shoulder. He instinctively leans back into the touch of his best friend. She keeps trying to ask Jiyong these horrible questions, and he catches parts of her words through the yelling of Seunghyun and Youngbae, who are now standing defensively between Jiyong and the interviewer.

He can't make out a lot of the words being thrown out between the three. He can't hear much of anything over the rush of blood in one ear and Daesung's soothing voice in the other.

When Jiyong finally zones back in, he realizes that they're all sitting in the back seat of the company car. They haven't left the parking lot of where their interview was. He doesn't remember leaving the building. Daesung glances up at Seunghyun with a worried look but says nothing. Slowly, the oldest of the four reaches out and rests his hand on Jiyong's knee.

Even though it was a slow move, it still caused Jiyong to startle. Once Seunghyun was sure that Jiyong was fully paying attention to him, he asked the younger man if he was going with them to hang out at Youngbae's house. After a moment, Jiyong pushes his black bangs from his face and says no, he wants to go to the studio.

Jiyong can feel his hands still shaking as Seunghyun nods and says something over his shoulder to the driver. Though they would really rather not leave Jiyong alone, it seems like the alone time might be exactly what he needs right now.

So reluctantly, the boys have Jiyong dropped off at YGHQ. Before the car pulls away, there's a moment where Daesung looks up at Youngbae and asks if they should go with him. Youngbae shakes his head.

"But... You know how he handles things like this... You remember Ai..."

"I'm sure I'll see him later." he says simply.

Nobody questions him.

Youngbae leaned back in his chair, leg thrown over the arm as he sipped on what would be his third glass of wine. Daesung is draped dramatically over his own chair and Seunghyun is leaning into the arm of the couch, legs stretched across the cushions.

They're smiling and somehow managing to have a good time. Daesung thinks the wine is the reason and Youngbae thinks he's right.

The topic they originally broke into the wine over was long passed, conversation-wise, but now they were getting into the thick of it. Despite the joy they're feeling for Youngbae, Seunghyun and Daesung can't help but think about Seungri and Jiyong.

"I still feel bad for leaving him..." Daesung hiccups. Seunghyun nods in agreement, though nobody is sure he was even listening.

Youngbae swirls his glass and watches the wine spiral inside. "I know you do, but Ji has to do things at his own pace. He always has."

"So he was like that before Big Bang?"

Youngbae nods. "Everyone handles things differently. Jiyong just gets worse before he gets better."

Daesung looks down into his glass with a sad expression. "What do you think Jiyong-hyung would be like if one of us died too?"

There was a long moment of hesitation from Youngbae before he looks up from his glass. His gaze is distant and his eyes are sad.

"If any more of us died... I think Jiyong would probably turn to some pretty drastic things."

Daesung's brows knit together. "Like what?"

Seunghyun spoke for the first time in a while. "He'd probably kill himself."

Somewhere around one in the morning is when Daesung and Seunghyun finally retreated from Youngbae's for the night. He was glad that they'd called someone to drive them rather than driving anywhere. They hadn't really drank that much but it was still important to him that they stayed safe.

Using his newfound alone time, Youngbae occupied his time with tidying up around his home. Until a knock came to his door around one-thirty.

For a moment he assumed it was Daesung or Seunghyun knocking. He assumed they forgot something until he opened the door to reveal not Daesung, _or_ Seunghyun, but Jiyong.

Youngbae took a step back to take in Jiyong's appearance and felt his heart break.

Leaning against the doorway was his best friend. His black hair was now a bright blonde, stripped of all of its color. The collar of the shirt he wore into the studio earlier was now nearly shredded and hanging off of him. His face and jacket both were stained with dirt and blood.

Youngbae took note of the tears in Jiyong's eyes and the blood steadily dripping from his nose. He watched as Jiyong, most likely drunk, swayed on his feet as he began to ask permission to enter.

Youngbae didn't allow him to finish, instead gently grabbing Jiyong by the arm and pulling him inside with a sigh. "What'd you do?"

He helps a stumbling Jiyong farther into the house, gently getting him to sit down on the edge of the bathtub. He doesn't try saying anything to Jiyong for a long moment, instead focusing on why his nose is bleeding the way it is.

"Were you hit?" Jiyong nods yes. "How many times?"

Slowly, Jiyong holds up two fingers. Youngbae nods slowly and gently grabs the bridge of Jiyong's nose. "Not broken. When's the last time you had a nose-bleed?"

"...March."

Youngbae nods and presses a cloth under Jiyong's nose to try and wipe up the blood. "Do you remember what I told you happens to your blood when you drink?"

Jiyong nods slowly, but Youngbae says he wants to hear him say it just to make sure he really remembers.

They go back and forth like this for a little while. Jiyong thinks its cause Youngbae thinks he's a dumb drunk. It's really because Youngbae is trying to gauge what kind of mental state Jiyong is in.

Jiyong hiccups loudly after about 20 minutes of mumbling out the answers to Youngbae's questions. "I called Chaerin..."

Youngbae, knowing Jiyong easily gets discouraged if he thinks nobody is listening to him, raises a brow. "Oh? How'd that go?"

The younger man smiles softly. "Good... We're going to Daegu this weekend... Gonna get away a little."

"That might be good for you to have a couple of days away, you're right."

Jiyong shrugs and leans towards his friend, who turns his head away from him slightly. Jiyong pulls back again. "Have to get on a plane though..."

Youngbae takes note of the sudden tremble in Jiyong's voice. He doesn't press. He knows Jiyong will talk when he's ready. He always has.

"Scared to fly though... Last time one of us went to an airport... He..."

"I know. You don't have to say it."

Suddenly, Jiyong raises his voice. "I do! I do have to say it! I can't pretend for the rest of my life that he's still here! I can't pretend that we didn't fight and I can't pretend that people don't think I _wanted him to die_!"

His yelling quickly turns into sobs and that's all it takes for Youngbae to realize exactly just how fragile Jiyong is right now. He hasn't seen Jiyong get this bad in a really long time. Youngbae wastes no time in wrapping his arms around his friend and holding him tightly.

Jiyong buries his face in Youngbae's shirt, smearing blood all over, but Youngbae doesn't mind. After a very long couple of minutes, Jiyong pulls away very suddenly, claiming that he's imposing on Youngbae by being here.

Youngbae shakes his head. "No, Ji, you're alright. Let me make you something to eat, yeah?"

Jiyong says no at first before giving in since Youngbae has never taken no for an answer. Jiyong follows Youngbae around like a puppy and while he makes his friend food, Youngbae can't escape the overwhelming feeling that Jiyong shouldn't go home tonight. He doesn't think Jiyong is strong enough to be on his own, given his state.

"Hey, Ji... Did you drive here?"

Jiyong pauses. "Drove a couple of blocks but... Got out of the car to puke and then... walked, the rest of the way?"

Youngbae takes a deep breath to resist the urge to yell at his friend. "At least you didn't drive the whole way."

Jiyong nods, staring down into the coffee Youngbae had made him. "Thought you'd yell at me if I drove..:"

"I'll give you some clothes tonight. Don't want you getting dirt in my bed." he teases and for the first time in days, he hears Jiyong laugh.

By 2:30, Youngbae is helping Jiyoing crawl into bed. He's sobered up almost entirely, but he's still dopey. Youngbae doesn't have the heart to tell him that if he wasn't drunk he'd make him take his alcohol breath to the couch for the night. Carefully he makes his way into the bed opposite his friend. He loves the way Jiyong smiles at him when they make eye contact.

It's something that will never change about Jiyong, he thinks. He's done it every time they've slept near each other since they became friends.

For nearly an hour, they just share gentle talk. Their voices are hushed because they feel like the dark bedroom calls for lowered voices even though there's no need. Youngbae has one of his hands resting in the open space between them, but he doesn't miss the way Jiyong slowly creeps his hand closer until their fingers are touching. He doesn't pull his hand away.

There's one moment where Youngbae watches the emotion in Jiyong's eyes shift, and he knows what Jiyong is about to mention.

"It's been a long time since we've held hands like this..."

"Jiyong..." he tries to warn.

"You promised me we'd talk about it." Jiyong insisted. And yes, he was right, Youngbae had promised and they both knew it. The conversation had been avoided for 10 years now. They can't avoid it forever. So Youngbae shuts his mouth and lets Jiyong talk.

"Did it mean anything to you?"

Youngbae sighs, but lets Jiyong squeeze his hand. "It didn't mean the same thing to me that it meant to you. And it's not because I don't like you, Ji. I love you, I really do."

"Don't say that. You don't mean that."

"I do love you, just not the way you want."

Slowly, the tears begin to return to Jiyong's eyes. "Is it because I wasn't good enough to you before? I could do better..."

"That's not the point, Ji. What we had was good. But it's just not for me. We were teenage boys. Lots of boys go through times like that together."

"That's all it was to you?"

Youngbae sighs and sits up, leaning against the headboard. "That's all it was supposed to be for you, too. So I agreed. I didn't see the harm in it. I won't lie I'm glad you asked me instead of some random guy. God knows what would have happened if you'd fallen for someone else."

Jiyong mumbled, but Youngbae heard him anyways. "Maybe it would've hurt less."

"You're honestly telling me you would have rather caught feelings for someone you never would have seen again?"

Jiyong sits up quickly. Too quickly. He sways and it takes him just a moment too long to focus on Youngbae's face. "Yes."

His voice is laced with venom, but Youngbae knows he doesn't mean it. It's how Jiyong works. "I would rather have caught feelings for someone I never would have seen again because at least then I would have known exactly where I stood. So I wouldn't have had to push myself aside to make them happy, and so I'd never have to go around thinking I'm not good enough while I watch them date other people."

Youngbae runs his hand over his face. "I told you then, and I'll tell you now. I'm not into guys."

"You were pretty into guys when you... We spent so long together that it... It couldn't all have been a lie..."

He doesn't miss the way Jiyong swallows. He knows that he's trying to keep his emotions in. He watches the way Jiyong starts to shut down and he panics cause that's what he's always tried to avoid was Jiyong shutting down on him of all people.

"You're the only guy I was ever into." The moment the words leave his lips, he can tell they're the wrong ones. He can taste the betrayal on his own tongue.

"Why didn't it stick? Did I do something wrong?"

It's Youngbae's turn to swallow. He struggles for a long couple of minutes to find his words.

"You've always been very... Sensitive, when it comes to your emotions. And I want you to know I never wanted to hurt you or have you hate me... I... Jiyong you have to understand. I was... I always wanted to look out for you. But I understand I may have done the opposite and hurt you in ways I can't even begin to imagine... And for that, I'm so sorry."

"I'd do it again. But if you're asking for a new chance, I don't want to be hurt again.."

Youngbae sighs heavily. "This is the worst time we ever could have had this conversation, Ji..."

Jiyong's brows knit together. "Why?"

Slowly, Youngbae looks up into the eyes of his ex-lover and best friend. "I'm asking Hyorin to marry me this weekend, Jiyong."

Youngbae didn't remember much of what happened after telling Jiyong of his plans to ask his long-time girlfriend to marry him.

What he does remember is that Jiyong was here when he went to sleep, but when he woke his friend, and all signs that he was ever even here, were gone.


	5. Chapter 4 // "But where am I going right now?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, I'm literally so sorry. I had to move again very suddenly and haven't had much time for this lately, but I haven't forgotten! Thank you so much for being so patient!

Youngbae picked up Daesung with his usual greeting, a smile and a friendly kind of hello. Daesung shifted his way into the passenger's seat, all smiles and laughter as he told his best friend a story about something he saw online earlier.

Youngbae could tell that there were certain things that Daesung was trying to avoid talking about, and that was okay, but it also wasn't at the same time.

With a bite of his lip, Youngbae glances at his younger friend. "Hey, do you... Do you need to talk about anything?"

Daesung's brows knit together. "I don't know what I would need to talk about, hyung."

"You can talk about how you're feeling to me, you know? You don't have to keep it all inside. We're going through the same thing, it's okay to talk about it."

Daesung quickly fires back with, "Jiyong isn't talking about it."

"Just because he's not talking to us about it, doesn't mean he isn't talking about it. He's with Chaerin, I'm sure she got him to talk about how he's feeling."

"Well, hyung, you always seem to know what he's thinking, or how he's feeling... Why doesn't he talk to me like he talks to you?"

Youngbae takes a deep breath. He doesn't want to share the information, but Daesung's doe eyes bore into his soul until he finally caved in. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and did exactly the opposite of what he originally wanted to do, and he told Daesung everything.

He told Daesung about how Jiyong had come to him when they were younger and expressed his interest in boys, when really it was just an interest in a single boy. He tells Daesung how he agreed to what Jiyong wanted, and how Jiyong fell in love with him despite knowing that it didn't mean much to him.

He vented all of the information out to Daesung, who sat quietly in the passenger seat the whole time, bottom lip between his teeth. He says nothing until after Youngbae finishes speaking, and even then he's silent. Youngbae doesn't press. He understands that it's a lot of information to take in at once, especially since it was information that Youngbae had retained for 10 years already.

"Please, for the love of God, don't tell anyone about this, please." Youngbae sighs, "It's supposed to be a secret."

"Hyung, I'll take it to the grave with me."

And Youngbae believed him, so he let out a breath and relaxed, giving more focus to the road... Until his phone vibrated in the console with a text alert in their group chat... From Daesung.

Youngbae gasps. "Dae! Delete it, quickly!"

Daesung fiddles to do so, but it's too late as Sunghyung had already sent two eye emojis, followed by several question marks.

At a stop, Youngbae groans and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. Daesung begins pleading for Youngbae's forgiveness, but he's shut down very gently with the assurance that he doesn't need to be forgiven because he did nothing wrong, it was an easy mistake to make.

In the bottom of Daesung's screen, Jiyong's text bubble. _'Will talk later.... Boarding plane.... So sorry....'_

Jiyong kicks the back of the plane seat in front of him and tosses his phone down into the empty seat beside him. Of course, it was a lie that he was just barely boarding, but he didn't think that Youngbae would have told Daesung something so private.

It didn't help that Jiyong couldn't see well. While he was with Chaerin he'd been perfectly sober, until the complimentary alcohol bottles came when he boarded. Though they were small, he was already 7 of them in and it was beginning to finally take the edge off, but not much else. It didn't stop his fingers from shaking or his knee from bouncing.

The blurry vision came from the tears welling up into his eyes as he reached for his phone again despite previously tossing it. He began to text Chaerin to inform her that Youngbae had told his secret to Daesung, who then proceeded to leak it to Seunghyun. She told him to calm down, which didn't really help his situation.

Instead, he just tossed his phone back down and threw his head back, taking several deep breaths. His chest painfully tightened with each one, his fingers trembling worse and worse. He felt like the plane was closing in around him. Everything was just so _small_.

He felt like he could be sick. He couldn't focus. There were only three people in this world that could help him like this, his mother, Chaerin, and Youngbae. He scrambled for his phone and his thumb hovered over Youngbae's contact, but he hesitated. They hadn't talked in two days. Jiyong wouldn't bother him now.

_Youngbae startled from the edge of slumber when his phone vibrated on the nightstand. Carefully, he slid out of bed, desperate not to wake Hyorin on his way out. Ducking into the bathroom, he answered, almost desperate to hear Jiyong's voice. They hadn't spoken since their talk the night before that Jiyong had walked out on after._

_"Jiyong, are you okay?"_

_He heard silence on the other line for a moment before he heard shuffling and a thud. "Don't... Know why I called," Jiyong hiccuped. "I missed your voice..."_

_Running his fingers through his hair, he poked his head out to make sure Hyorin was still asleep. "How drunk are you?"_

_"I'm not drunk... I just miss you."_

_There's a really long moment of silence, and then a shaking breath. Youngbae doesn't press. He's in no position._

_"Too drunk... She told me... I don't have to stop because she... Says I'm in pain."_

_Youngbae sits on the edge of the tub. "Are you?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"In pain?"_

_There's some shuffling, then a sniffle and a shaking breath. "So much... Too much."_

_"What can I do, Jiyong?"_

_There was a loud clang of what Youngbae could only describe as the slam of a glass bottle onto a hard surface. "Nothing... You can't fix me anymore... And I'm sorry... I'm sorry I can't be fixed anymore, but at the same time, it-it's good! It's good because you... You don't have to fix me anymore!"_

_"Jiyong, what are you talking about?"_

_There was a cough that sounded more like a sob than anything else. "If I... If I do bad enough, you won't have to fix me anymore cause there won't be anything left to fix... You've fixed me too many times for it to be fair. You're gonna have a different life without me now."_

_"It doesn't have to be that different..."_

_There's a sniffle, "Did she say yes?"_

_Youngbae hesitates before answering. "Yes, she did."_

_"Then it's different... I'll let you get back to her... I..."_

_Youngbae knew what he was going to say, but Jiyong never said it. He simply said goodnight, and then hung up, leaving Youngbae to worry that Jiyong might do something drastic while he was away._

The children running around had been giving Daesung a headache for several hours. When Daesung volunteered to help Youngbae at the Theater, he didn't exactly realize that they'd be helping set up for a children's play. The kids weren't bad company, they just had way too much energy for Daesung to keep up with them today.

Once he told them that he had a headache, they calmed down, but only for a little while before they forgot and went back to loudly playing tag together, jumping around each other, all narrowly avoiding the piano and the church pews strewn around the room.

Youngbae was sympathetic and eventually told Daesung about some painkillers out in the car. They sounded like his saving grace, so Daesung threw on his animal print coat and began to head outside. The cold air hit him the moment that he hit the front door... And so did the shaking beneath his feet.

A large, noisy crowd came in his direction, pushing and shoving it's way past while effectively pinning Daesung close to the side of the Theater. He wanted to go back for Youngbae, and for the children, but the crowd kept him from moving more than a couple of feet.

His heart was pounding nearly as hard as the ground beneath his feet.

He hears a loud groaning somewhere around him, but he can only pin the sound when he looks straight up above him...

And sees the Theater sign collapsing down.


	6. Chapter 5 // "Red, orange, yellow, green. Mysterious scene of ecstasy."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhmm,,, if I needed tissues, so will you

Daesung slowly blinked the dust out of his eyes. The first two things he was able to note were these: his headache was gone, and the street was deserted.

He wondered what in the hell he was doing outside for a very long moment... Then he remembered all of the people, the shaking... The screaming. He stood so fast that he tripped on his own feet and turned around to look at the theater he'd just come out of. His heart dropped so quickly that he turned around and threw up.

He fell back down next to his vomit and stared with teary eyes up at the building. It was in shambles, surrounded by settling dust and rubble. He wanted to cry, and then the panic began boiling up inside of him. _"Hyung!"_

He bolts forward from his spot on the ground and lunges for what's left of the theater door and yanks it open. He sprints inside but when he blinks to clear the dust from his eyes, he's back in the street.

Repeatedly, he blinked, trying to reason why he'd be outside again for just a short moment before attempting once again to sprint inside of the theater. The moment that he passed the entryway, he blinked and found himself outside once more.

He cried out in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair before turning in circles, looking for anyone that could help him. Midway between the fourth and fifth turns, his eyes landed on a sparkling figure a short way away.

He stops, nearly losing his balance as he struggles to focus on the figure. After a short moment, his vision clears and he cries out again.

Standing there, a sparkling gold jacket draped over both of his shoulders, black hair cropped short, was Seungri. A gentle smile rested on his face as he looked over his friend.

"Seungri! Seungri, he's trapped we have to help him!"

Seungri didn't move. Daesung's desperation increased as he quickly moved in the direction of his friend. "Seungri, _please_!"

Finally, face to face with his friend, Seungri spoke. "We can't help him, Daesung."

His face fell, "What? What the hell do you mean we can't help him?! He's in there! We can't just stand out here and do nothing!"

"You're looking at everything but you're not seeing it, Dae. You have to open your eyes." Slowly, Seungri brushed past him and walked towards the theater. "You don't remember it, but you have to try. You can't stay blind to this. You have to see it, or you can't leave."

Daesung felt more confused than ever before. "Seungri, please, I don't understand."

"I didn't understand at first either... What's the last thing that you remember from tonight?"

Daesung's brows knitted together in confusion. "I... I remember going to the car because I had a headache and... People screaming, and running and..." His focus slowly drifted towards the theater sign, brightly lit just the way it had been when he and Youngbae arrived this morning. "That's... not right, I-I remember, it fell!"

Seungri's gaze is focused on the gravel, more like rubble, beneath their shoes. "You remember it fell... Where were you when it fell?"

"I was... Underneath it, but I guess I moved."

Slowly, Seungri shook his head. "No, Daesung. You didn't."

Jiyong was nothing short of fucking panicked. He'd been trapped inside of this god-forsaken store for almost two hours now because everyone was saying it would be suicide to leave. Jiyong, however, was getting closer and closer to accepting that what's outside of this store will kill him the more he was unable to reach Daesung and Youngbae.

He had managed to get ahold of Seunghyun rather easily. He'd texted back instantly when Jiyong had texted him, but only to say that he was still safe at home and also that he hadn't heard from Youngbae or Daesung since they left this morning.

Jiyong kept pacing past a woman and her children as he continued trying to reach Youngbae. He'd even attempted to call Hyorin, but she didn't answer either. He was nearing tears of frustration at this point, as nothing was working and all he could do was think that the worst had already happened and that Youngbae was already gone.

He pressed against the wall as flat as possible, wishing that he could just disappear and wake up from this nightmare. But he knew he was awake, which was the worst thing to know about. He chewed on his bracelet as he dialed Seunghyung's number and held the phone to his ear.

He didn't answer, and suddenly Jiyong couldn't hold the panic in anymore. He leaned over the nearest trash can and puked until he couldn't breathe and puked until there was nothing left. Shortly after a woman offered him crackers from her bag and he graciously accepted them, slowly munching on one after another.

He stared very intently at his phone screen and nearly jumped out of his skin when it started to ring, Seunghyung's contact photo coming up on the screen. He lurched forward as he swiped to answer and brought the phone up so quickly he knocked himself in the mouth with it.

"_Hyung_!" He cried, relief flooding him. "You're okay? Why didn't you answer?! I thought something happened to you!"

"I'm sorry, I~"

"_You can't do that to me_!" He sobbed, pathetically curling into himself. "_You can't_!"

"Jiyong! Breathe! I'm sorry for scaring you, but I'm alright, I promise."

Jiyong swiped at the tears on his face and listened to the voice of his hyung on the other end of the phone as he explained he called because he got a bad feeling and wanted to be on the line. Jiyong was used to that as Seunghyung usually called him as soon as the feeling hit him.

Jiyong looked out of the windows of the store and slowly pushed himself to stand. "I don't think I'm very far from your house... Do you want me to come?"

"It's not safe, you know? You shouldn't be out in the streets. It looks really bad out there."

"I can't leave you alone, hyung. Please, let me come to you."

"Jiyong-"

"_I'm afraid_!" He admitted. "I don't want to be alone, hyung."

There was a long pause on the other end, and then the ground began to shake again and Jiyong, in his panic, threw himself against the nearest wall to get out of the way of a chunk of ceiling that fell in right where he'd been standing just a moment ago.

The whole thing lasted about 14 seconds, and when it was over, Jiyong stifled a sob into his arm as he listened to Seunghyung attempting to soothe him by reminding him that he was still on the phone and that they were both still okay.

After a couple more minutes, with Jiyong calmed down, Seunghyun gently stated, "I think I smell smoke..."

"What do you mean I'm dead? I can't be dead!"

Seungri looked up at the sky. "I'm dead. You knew that when you saw me but you didn't want to believe it... Clearly you still don't."

"If I'm dead, then I'm supposed to go to _Heaven_, not... Here."

"That's why I'm here... I'm meant to take you to Heaven. But once you go there you won't know what happens to the rest until they maybe go to Heaven."

Daesung looked at his feet. "I... I can't leave yet. I have to... I have to know what happens to Youngbae-hyung."

"I would show you, but that's not how it works."

Daesung quickly moved to his friend's side. "You know what's happening? Take me there!"

"Daesung-hyung, I can't. You still haven't been looking."

"What is there to look at?! All I can see is you refusing to let me help Youngbae!"

"It's not up to me," Seungri said calmly. "Or we'd be in there already."

Daesung groaned as the weight of the situation was beginning to get to him. Or rather, he thought it was. He looked around the deserted street and spotted a car he hadn't noticed before. The flashing emergency lights caught his eye as he continued to look around. Dust sifted through the air and somewhere nearby he swore he heard a woman crying. He furrowed his brows and turned to Seungri, whose gaze was focused elsewhere.

"Seungri, do you hear that woman?"

His friend nodded. "She's been crying for hours... Don't you recognize her?"

Daesung turned in the direction of the crying and there he spotted his mother, incredibly distraught. Then beside her, his father, and an ambulance and a man in the back of it with blood on his face. In front of the theater was a row of lumps covered by tarps. He reached out for his friend as he stared down at them. They were situated directly next to the large theater sign.

"Seungri..?"

His friend said nothing and simply looked down at the ground. Daesung turned back to the row... The lumps, he realized, were more than that. They were people, bodies. He made his way, slowly, down the row, and stopped at the very end, in front of the body closest to the theater sign.

He felt like he could have puked, but nothing came. He realized that nothing would. Blankly, he stared down at the covered body and the cheetah-print coat sticking out from beneath the tarp, then slowly looked down to focus on the one he wore.

"I'm in the street, I'm coming, Seunghyun! Tell me what's happening!" Jiyong panted as he jogged down the street. Everywhere he had to dodge debris and the occasional tarp-covered body, but he didn't have time to think about that. Seunghyun wasn't responding much on the other end, other than the occasional, far away, yell of information. All Jiyong knew was that Seunghyun needed his help desperately.

At one point, Jiyong hung up to call the fire department, begging them to get to the house, when he was told that someone was already on their way to the home. He then called back to Seunghyun, who answered rather quickly. He was panting on the other end.

"Jiyong! I don't know what happened! There's fire and I-I can't get out the front door-"

"Did you try the back?"

"It's stuck! They're stuck! I-I can't! I'm gonna go down and try the windows, maybe I can get out of here."

Jiyong didn't get to say anything before he could hear Seunghyun put the phone down. He continued towards Seunghyun's home... He was much farther away than he thought before.

Away from the phone, Jiyong can hear the sound of banging and also Seunghyun's voice. _"Hey! Hey, help me! Please!"_

Even though he knows that his hyung can't hear him, Jiyong yells into the phone. "I'm on my way! Please hold on!"

As he nears, he can hear Seunghyung coughing rather violently.

Then, Jiyong can see the house.

And then, he can see the flames protruding from the first-floor windows and licking the outside walls.

He spots firemen out front, trying to force the debris away from the front of Seunghyun's door.

And then he's sprinting, trying desperately to get there in time when all he can hear on the other end of the line is screaming.

He sees the firemen finally get the door open, and then he sees them pull Seunghyun, clothes aflame, from his home.

He watches them lay him down in the concrete not far from his front door. They slip the oxygen mask onto him just as Jiyong finally reaches Seunghyun's property and he throws himself to the ground beside his hyung so violently that he rips his jeans and scrapes his knees on the way down.

Jiyong almost can't bear to look at Seunghyun's charred hair or burned skin. What's left of the clothes clinging to him expose parts of Seunghyun he would never want to be exposed in any circumstances.

Jiyong watches as his hyung stares up at the stars in the sky, though partially obstructed by smoke. It's at that second that he notices the melted state of his left eyeball. It's not entirely gone, but is just enough burnt that the pupil has broken and is spilling from the deep brown iris and into the whites of his eye, blending the color together into a light gray. Jiyong feels sick and reflexively closes his own eyes. 

"Hyung! I'm here!" He panted, grabbing the fabric of his friend's shirt. Jiyong forces his eyes back open, hoping to find Seunghyun completely fine and giving him a lopsided little grin.

Instead, he watched in horror as Seunghyun continued to stare blankly up at the stars in the sky. From his one good eye, a tear slips down from the corner and he blinks, smiling very faintly as he takes in a shuddering breath... And then smoothly breathes out.

Jiyong waits for the next breath, but it doesn't come. "H-Hyung?"

Gently, he shakes his friend, despite the firemen removing the oxygen mask from his face. "Hyung, _please_! This isn't funny!"

He shook his friend again and this time Seunghyun's head rolled to the side, his now lifeless eyes staring directly up at Jiyong. _"No!"_

He took in a shuddering breath and screamed until it turned into a painful sob. He leaned down and sobbed against his late friend's chest until he couldn't breathe anymore, then he let himself fall back and look up at the same stars.

And then he suddenly remembered that Daesung and Youngbae were still out there somewhere. And then he rose to find them.


	7. Chapter 6 // "Remember this moment."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to apologize cause if you're reading this you probably knew this was coming..

Jiyong blinked to clear the dust in the air from his eyes as he stared up at what was left of the theater. It looked like it fell in on itself, caving right in the center. He looked down the street to his left. Cars lined the parking lot and he was able to spot Youngbae's brand new, bright red car.

Desperate, he sprinted towards it, praying that somehow Daesung and Youngbae would be inside and unharmed, rather than in that god-forsaken pile of rubble.

What he saw inside of the car was nothing. Just a vast emptiness that he felt reflected the feelings beginning to grow inside of him like tidal waves on the shoreline.

His stomach turned just the same as he did. He tried not to be sick as he headed towards the theater. Towards the bodies covered by plastic sheets. He prayed aloud to whatever God was above him.

"_Please_... Don't let them be gone..."

He crept ever closer. Holding his breath, he lifted the very top edges of every one, checking every body as he went. His spirits began to lift the farther down the line he got, his heart beating faster with every face that didn't belong to his friends.

He was ecstatic, they _must_ have made it out.

He was nearing the end of the line, only two more. One was a woman, he felt sorry for her, for her family. He put the plastic back.

Then he lifted the final piece and his heart dropped and his stomach hurt.

There was no face left to the body, and necks aren't supposed to look like _that_. He wanted to say that wasn't what got to him.

He wants to say that what gets to him is the very familiar cheetah print coat, or the long necklace laying against the lifeless, unbreathing chest.

He wants to say that it's what's left of the choppy haircut or the faded design on the newly stained black shirt. 

Truthfully, it's all of those things that make his blood run cold as he stares down at what's left of his younger friend. He wants to reach out and push his hair back like always, but he can't.

"Daesung... _Oh, God_..."

He drops the plastic as he scurries away, kicking himself backwards, scraping and breaking the skin on the heels of his palms on the asphalt as he goes.

He's panting and he can barely hear the authorities talking about moving the bodies to the morgue over the rush of blood in his ears. And then he can hear it.

Not too far away, emerging from what's left of the front door of the theater is an officer leading a group of children out of the building. He's telling them that they're safe now, but at least two of them are wailing, pleading for the officer to go back inside.

_"He's still in there!"_ one cries, while another is pulling against the officer's arm.

"He saved us! You have to go back!"

Another officer asks the first what the kids are talking about. He says he has no idea. They didn't find anyone left alive in the theater.

The kids continue to wail. They know better. They're screaming that he's in there and that he's alive and if the cops won't help then someone has to and Jiyong decides it has to be him. It has to be.

He sprints past the officers that try to stop him and the children who jump out of the way. He ducks to avoid a low hanging piece of wood and he hears the police say the building is too unstable to send any officers in after him.

They say he's going to die in there.

He says it won't be without a fight. Without Youngbae.

He stops not too far away from where he entered to let his eyes adjust to the darkness and the dust that's begun to swallow him. He looks left, and then right, and then carefully makes his way through an opening into the next area. He doesn't know if this is the same room or not. There's not enough of it left for him to know any better anymore.

The second his eyes focus in, he's able to see through both the darkness and the dust. He's here for a reason. He has to get Youngbae out of here

He continues to make his way through the rubble until he sees it. In the middle of a pile of rock and wood, is Youngbae. His familiar hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and blood. His once white jacket is covered in blood and dirt and it's clinging to him.

Jiyong cries out in desperation and lunges forward. _"Bae!"_

Slowly, Youngbae opened his eyes to look up at his savior, and his face breaks out in a smile. "Ji... I knew you'd come.."

"Don't talk. I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise."

Youngbae shook his head. "There's no point. Something went through me and... I can't.."

"Can't what?" Jiyong asked, terrified of the answer.

"Can't feel my legs..."

Jiyong squeezed his eyes closed, a stray tear falling as he shook his head. "No. Fuck that, I can't leave you here to die."

"You have to."

"The _hell_ I do!" He yelled before carefully beginning to move the debris trapping Youngbae here.

It didn't take long for Jiyong to realize what Youngbae meant when he said something went through him. Just off to the side of his abdomen, was a chunk of what looked like an old, slightly rusty pipe.

The sight made Jiyong's desperation kick into overdrive. He began to work faster as Youngbae's breathing got harsher, more ragged. He began to wonder if the pipe made it through a lung, but if that were the case, Youngbae would be in worse shape still.

Once Youngbae's arms and legs were free, it was only a matter of freeing him from the pipe. Jiyong quickly realized that the pipe was not going to move. He had to make a choice.

"Bae, I'm going to move you now.. I just wanted to say I'm sorry in advance.."

Jiyong climbed atop the rubble and felt it shift. He began to panic as a chunk of the stone ceiling fell, knocking him in the shoulder and nearly off his balance as he used his own body to shield Youngbae from any further damage.

He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to outwardly react to the pain. It wasn't about him now. This was about Youngbae.

"Deep breath.." He mumbled into Youngbae's ear. He only knew that he was heard once Youngbae sucked in a breath.

Quickly, he began to pull Youngbae upwards, forcing a scream from the older man's throat as he painfully clawed into Jiyong's arms. It drew blood but Jiyong was less than concerned. They had to get out of here.

Youngbae's screaming ceased once he was freed from his impalement. He used whatever strength was left in his arms to desperately cling to Jiyong. Jiyong kissed Youngbae on the forehead in between whispered promises to free them from this hell.

Jiyong started dragging Youngbae out of the building, as carefully as he could while still being fast about it. Who knew how much time they had left. They had to get the fuck out of this goddamned building. 

Youngbae continued to cry in pain. It was beginning to become overwhelming to him and it wasn't hard to tell. They had to get out fast.

"We're almost there..." Jiyong mumbled into the sweaty, matted hair of his friend.

Youngbae responded with nothing more than a squeeze to Jiyong's shoulder.

Jiyong could see the exit, but due to holding Youngbae, he wouldn't be able to duck away from sharp debris without dropping him, so he did the only thing he could. Jiyong continued upright, roughly scraping his shoulder on the sharp edges of the crumbling debris. The pain was like a distant memory to him as he began to feel the euphoria of finally freeing Youngbae.

Medical professionals were waiting and Jiyong quickly pushed Youngbae into their waiting arms. He followed them until one of the men grabbed Jiyong by the arm and helped him into the ambulance with Youngbae.

Desperately he clung to Youngbae's hand during their ride. Youngbae's focus was spotty, but his grip on Jiyong's hand was strong.

"I'm so glad I was able to free you, Sun... We... We're the only ones left."

Finally, Youngbae turned his head and managed to focus on Jiyong. "They're... _gone_?"

Jiyong nodded as he brought Youngbae's hand to his lips. "But we're gonna be okay, yeah?"

He couldn't ignore the way Youngbae's breathing was slowing. Nor could he ignore the way Youngbae's grip was beginning to weaken.

Weakly, but with what may have been all of the strength he could muster, Youngbae pulled Jiyong closer. Jiyong, carefully leaning around the EMT, kisses the back of Youngbae's hand.

"Jiyong, I..." Youngbae took a shuddering breath. "_Remember this moment_..."

Tears sprang to Jiyong's eyes as Youngbae's grip on his hand went slack, his eyes unfocused and his chest ceased it's rhythmic rising and falling.

"Bae...? S-Sun?" He croaked out.

Looking over his shoulder at the EMT, Jiyong quickly saw the sad look on their face.

"No... No!" He turned back to Youngbae, breath catching in his throat. "_No_!"

Sobbing, he dropped his forehead against Youngbae's lifeless chest, the emotion of the loss simply too much to bear.

Upon feeling a hand on his shoulder, Jiyong jumped. He felt the hand attempt to pull him away and reacted in the only way he knew how in that moment. With violence.

He fought against the hand pulling him, refusing to leave Youngbae's side. He swung wildly in the direction of the hand, sobbing all the while. The chain of Youngbae's necklace that Jiyong was clinging to finally gave way and Jiyong was sent flying backward into the arms he was just actively fighting against.

The only thing Jiyong would remember about the rest of the ride would be the violent sobs that wracked his body the whole way to the hospital.


	8. Chapter 7 // "If you don't think it's too late, can I join you?"

All Jiyong could do was stare. The bright florescent lights of the hospital did nothing to soften the sight of the three bodies laying on the metal slabs in front of him. The doctor thought he should be alone for a few minutes, to say his goodbyes in advance.

His shaking hands clung tightly to the items in them. In one hand, Youngbae's now broken cross necklace. In the other, a shiny silver scalpel.

Why does it have to be goodbye? He didn't have to be without them, right?

All he had to do was join them, right? He didn't have to be alone.

... His hand trembled as he lifted the scalpel to his wrist. The pale skin made it easy to see the veins underneath. He took in a shaky breath as he pressed the cold metal to his skin.

It'd been just days since the last time he'd hurt himself, but he'd never done it above the waist. He knew it would hurt, but he yanked the blade across the skin anyways, allowing the blood to flow.

Seeing the blood made the panic inside of him swell as he lunged for paper towels to slow the bleeding. He was well aware that this one horizontal could kill him just as well as a vertical.

He turned towards Youngbae, his peaceful face a wild difference from Jiyong's own.

The paper towel stuck to his bleeding skin and after a moment Jiyong kinda wanted to do it again. Seeing Youngbae here made it a clear decision. He didn't want to live without him. Without any of them.

As he lifted the scalpel once more to his skin, he heard his name being called to him.

When he looked up, he saw Dr. Lee, and she looked sad. "I'm not here to bust you, Jiyong. I'm here to say my goodbyes, like you."

He furrowed his brows and watched as she approached one of the autopsy tables behind where he'd been standing and pulled the sheet away from the face of the body. It was a girl that looked very much like Dr. Lee.

"Your sister?" He asked softly, voice trembling as he spoke.

She shook her head. "My daughter... She turned 12 yesterday."

"I'm... Sorry for your loss.."

"And I'm sorry for yours."

He knew this wasn't the time. And it definitely wasn't the place. But they were standing so close together and they were both so, so sad.

She looked up at him and then at his mouth, then closed the space by kissing him rather harshly. 

Something compelled him to kiss her back, despite Youngbae being right next to them and maybe that's why he did it.

Stuffing Youngbae's necklace into his pocket, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. She threaded her fingers into his hair.

He tried to forget how it felt when Youngbae would do that. He tried, however briefly, to forget Youngbae.

It didn't work, and he knew it never would.

Pulling away and mumbling quietly, he tells her that this isn't the place for it. He tells her that he needs to go. He needs to leave this place and pray to God for his forgiveness in disrespecting the dead.

It's been three days since they all... Since Jiyong was left alone. It truly was the loneliest existence imaginable. Chaerin had come to stay with him as soon as he told her what had happened.

She said she was on her way to him way before he ever called her. She said she had to know if he was alive since he wasn't answering his phone at all. He apologized, though he didn't know why.

He'd fixed Youngbae's necklace and it was now secured around his neck. The bracelet gift from Seungri was secured around his scabbing wrist. His other various bracelets covered the damage, hiding it from Chaerin.

Or he thought at least. She knew, she just didn't know what to do to help. So on the rare occasion he fell asleep, she cleaned his wounds. They were never deep enough to kill him, after the first one. That one had been sewn up by Dr. Lee.

These next couple of days were going to be the hardest days of Jiyong's life, Chaerin knew. Three funerals in three days. No fans, no cameras, just three funerals for three dead people and Jiyong, who would give anything to not have to be there.

He broke his suit back out of the closet, the one he wore to Seungri's funeral. The shirt that used to go with it was gone now, so Jiyong swapped it out for another. He tried to get ready pretending that this day was like any other funeral, and not like he'd be going to Daesung's funeral.

Chaerin was there, getting ready beside him. Neither of them were worried about being seen by the other, it'd happened before. There were no feelings there other than that of brotherly, sisterly love. And that was enough.

The car with Jiyong's driver in it was waiting for them when they exited Jiyong's building. He stopped and looked out at the difference. All around them were stains in the concrete from where bodies had once lain, rubble that hadn't been cleared.

The sky still had yet to settle. The buildings stood like ghosts against the fog and the dust and the smoke. 

They got into the car, Jiyong's head ducked down so far his chin touched his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut before taking a moment to scroll through social media. The news hadn't reached the fans yet, which was good because that meant that the press hadn't heard about it either.

In the middle of scrolling, his phone rang. When he saw YG's face he wanted to hang up, but he didn't. He put the phone to his ear and much like always he greeted the man with silence.

"I understand you have a lot going on right now... It would be nice if you'd come to see me when you have the time today."

Jiyong took a shaking breath. "And which of me were you hoping to see?"

"G-Dragon can wait. I'd like to visit with my friend Jiyong today."

Jiyong couldn't help the scoff that escaped him. They both knew that no matter how close they were, they didn't call each other friends.

Nonetheless, "I'll be there."

Daesung's parents decided they would have their son's funeral inside the hospital. His casket was closed, as was the standard, along with the suggestion from the coroner. There wasn't enough left of Daesung to leave it open in the first place.

The funeral room was incredibly different from the rest of the building. While the hospital was crisp whites and the smell of disinfectant, this room provided a stark contrast by being filled with bright hardwood and much softer lighting. It felt alive, which is something Jiyong couldn't say. 

With Chaerin on his arm, Jiyong approached Daesung's parents, removing his sunglasses to do so. They bowed, and Daesung's parents greeted them with warm smiles and gentle hugs. Daesung's mother began to insist that Jiyong should sit nearby, but he declined as respectfully as possible.

The night continued like that, until Jiyong excused himself to go to the restroom. Once out of sight of Chaerin, however, he changed directions and header for Dr. Lee's office. She greeted him by closing the door and pushing him down into a chair so that she may crawl into his lap to kiss him.

He accepted the distraction, however long it may last. It didn't last very long, as she pulled away, breathing heavily. 

Her slender fingers ghosted across his heavily jeweled wrists, pressing against his cover as though she could see through them.

"Show them to me.." she breathed, and so he did.

Removing all of his bracelets from his wrists, he bared them to her. She bit her lip as she touched them. She had a wicked gleam in her eye.

"I was hoping you'd have a new one for me to fix for you..."

He says nothing for a moment, but the moment he opens his mouth to speak she cuts him off. "Could you make one for me to fix? You look so hot when you're bleeding.."

Dazed and uncertain if he can say no, he nods and she fits a scalpel into his hand, watching with wide and eager eyes as he brings it to his wrist. 

Jiyong is shocked when she actually _moans_ at the sight of him forcing the sharp blade across his skin. Its across the back of his wrist this time, where he thought he might be less likely to bleed, or less likely to die. She grips his arm and brings it to her mouth before she begins to lick his blood from the cut.

He doesn't know if he should be frightened or turned on. He's a mixture of both right now. She winks at him.

"Dr. Lee.."

She shushes him, "I feel we're close enough," she begins, making a point to grind her crotch down against his. "For you to call me Heonae."

He sucks in a breath as she presses their crotches together once more. She doesn't even remove herself from his lap before she produces a needle and thread and begins stitching up his new cut. Jiyong didn't think it really needed stitches, but he was no doctor.

He used to think stitches would hurt more than they did, but he assumes he was wrong because these didnt hurt. It was probably bad that they didn't hurt, actually. He couldn't think of anything that hurt more than losing the people closest to him, so this was nothing.

She finished and stopped to admire her handiwork before telling him in a rather stern tone that he had to cover them back up. "Nobody wants to see how desperate you are but me."

Her sultry tone confuses Jiyong for a long moment, and before he knows it she's removing herself from his lap. She goes to a separate section of her office to compose herself, he assumes. He doesn't want to ask.

While she's not looking, Jiyong reaches into his bag and pulls out a pill bottle before popping two of them into his mouth. As he moves to return the bottle to the bag, she appears and rips it from his hand, staring down first the label, then him. She scoffs and tosses it into his bag.

"We'll get you something better."

He returned to Daesung's funeral, stitches stinging as he returned to his place next to Chaerin. She asked him why he was gone for so long and where he went. He told her he ran into a friend in the halls and got to talking and that she had nothing to worry about. For some reason he couldn't figure, she seemed to believe him.

They continued on like this, well into the night before deciding to say their goodbyes and finally leave. They had to do this again in the morning, after all.


	9. Chapter 8 // "All around you, get high and release the reigns."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:: there's het smut in this one and I'm sorry

Despite severely regretting agreeing to meet with YG, Jiyong held up his end of the deal and showed up to the office anyways, Chaerin in tow.

They passed by a few junior groups on their way and seeing each group sent a painful jolt through Jiyong's heart. They smiled and waved and on more than one occasion asked him to pass on a hello to Youngbae or Daesung. Did any of them know? Did YG bother to tell anyone that they were gone? Did he take the time to tell them that Jiyong was the only one left?

The thoughts and questions needed answers and Jiyong was going to get them one way or another.

Walking, no, storming into YG's office, Jiyong yanked on his tie until he could be freed of it and then threw it down on YG's desk. The anger and fear were boiling up inside of him like water in a pot. Before he could turn down the heat, he spilled.

"Did you bother to tell them? Do you even care enough about them?! Are they people to you or just walking bags of money like the rest of us?!" He yelled, taking both YG and Chaerin by surprise.

She grabbed at his arm but he yanked it away to continue on his tirade. "Did you think you should have told them or are you going to make me do it the way you plan to make me tell the _rest_ of the world?!"

He blinked to fight back tears of anger and frustration that were beginning to well up in his eyes. "That's what you wanted to tell me, isn't it? That I have to tell the world that the others are gone?"

YG, Hyunsuk, blinked. Staring at Jiyong for a long moment, he sighed. "Yes. Though I planned to phrase it more like a question."

"I'm not an idiot. I knew what your plan was all along. You never want to get your hands dirty so you're going to make me take the fall for it. Make me take the blame so they'll keep following you like we did." He shook his head. "It's sick, you're sick. You only want me to do it because you're weak, right?"

"Jiyong, that's quite enough."

"Or what?" He demanded. "You'll fire me? You won't. You can't afford to lose me now that the others are gone."

Pacing in front of Hyunsuk's desk, Jiyong sighed. "Whatever. You can just demand that I be there and do it like always. It's not like I have any options at this point."

With that he left, a shocked and saddened Chaerin following behind him.

After requesting some alone time and finally getting Chaerin to agree, leaving for a hotel for the night, Jiyong was home by himself for the first time in a long moment.

Looking around his large home, he felt nothing but emptiness, and then he felt angry. So goddamn angry. Daesung was never anything less than innocent and nice and now he was gone and there was nothing that could be done about it. Jiyong had just spent his day at his funeral and the whole time he felt nothing but sad and empty and it hurt so badly. Jiyong turned, eyes scanning over the entryway to his home for the item he needed now.

The moment his eyes landed on it, he shot forward for it. Slender fingers wrapped around the handle of the wooden baseball bat next to the door and before he had any idea what he was doing, he was swinging it on anything he could find. Lamps and picture frames fell victim to his anger.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he began to think that he might regret smashing so many things but for now, he didn't care. Walking room to room, his destruction continued as did his rage. He fumed for the loss of Daesung and his innocence. For Hyunsuk and his horrible request. Jiyong didn't know if his heart could take any more, but tomorrow and the day after would be the same as today but with different bodies.

Once he managed to tire himself, he made his way into the living room and allowed himself to fall onto the floor in the midst of the glass covering the floor, his phone falling from his pocket. It lit up to show him his lock screen as if it were put there to taunt him. Five faces smiled up at him, but one of them would never be happy again.

He didn't know how long he could go on like this for. He didn't even know how long he laid down on the floor in all of the glass. He finally stood after god knows how long and dusted his suit off. He took it off and laid it on the end of his bed just to fall asleep in the bed next to it.

Chaerin was there when he woke. She woke him, he knew. She looked scared. He asked what was wrong, but all she did was gesture to him, sleeping with a baseball bat, then around to all of the glass everywhere. He nodded, taking it as the answer he asked for before he stood and pulled his suit on. He added some earrings and rings to his outfit.

He caught Chaerin picking up the glass when he exited the bathroom and he gently scooped her hands up into his own. "You'll cut yourself... Leave it. I'll clean it later."

She looked like she wanted to say something to him as they stood. She opened her mouth and then closed it just as quickly.

"What?" He was no stranger to her. He knew her. He knew how she worked, how her brain worked. He knew what she wanted to ask him, he thought, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted to know. Some sick and twisted part of him wanted to hear the sad disappointment in her voice. He knew it would be there. He could see it in her face, in her eyes.

"Why did you do this? I... I understand that you're upset, Jiyong, and-and you have a right to react to this however you want to, I'm not judging you. I just want to know what's going on inside of your head right now."

He says nothing as they walk down the stairs to the front door. "I didn't have a lot of options last night... I was... Angry. I had to do something, I couldn't just leave it inside of me to make me worse than I was." He takes in a breath as they walk out into the open, stopping on the curb. The driver is waiting, though they're both perfectly capable of driving themselves.

They enter the car in silence. They like it that way. They're headed towards something that they won't react to in the same way and they know it. They have to prepare themselves for their own feelings, and for the feelings of the other. Her hand lay in the open seat between them. Wordlessly, he took it into his own and gave it the gentlest squeeze he could manage.

He knew that she wasn't anything close to fragile, but he thought maybe he was, so maybe the gentility was for him instead.

They stopped the car down the street. He was terrified. He could see their house, the one belonging to Seunghyun's parents. He remembers the last conversation that he had with them, and as he approaches the door he wonders if that conversation applies to right here and now, to this day that they might share.

Chaerin enters before him. She knows he needs his space before he enters. She wants him to be ready.

He takes a shaking breath and steps up the step and into the door. He keeps himself hidden behind Chaerin, which was a little difficult given their height difference. He was a good 6 inches taller than her usually, but her heels made up for the difference and on occasion made her taller. Today, they were the same height, which was good for Jiyong. It made her the perfect shield. God only knows what'll happen to him if he's seen here.

Slowly, carefully, they make their way through the crowded house of Seunghyun's parents. She clings tightly to his wounded, jewelry decorated wrist, for guidance and support. He doesn't mind.

They get to the casket and Jiyong can feel Chaerin's hand begin to shake as she stumbles forward another step. Happy, they're supposed to be happy. _Funerals are for the living. Funerals are for the living. Funerals are for the living._

She can't do it. She chokes as she turns to him and throws her arms around his neck. He can do nothing but stare as he holds her. She shakes against his shoulder and he doesn't know what to do for her because he doesn't know what to do for himself and he's panicking and before he can do anything she pulls away and turns.

Grabbing his wrist once again, they begin to bow to the casket containing their fallen friend. Before he can complete the second one, however, he feels hands on his shoulders. Chaerin's hand slips from his wrist as he's yanked backward and towards the door. He hears her calling his name, but he's too focused on trying to keep himself from being tossed from the door. "Please, don't make me go!"

"You lost me my son! You don't get to take him and still stay!" Seunghyun's father barked in his ear. In a swift twist, Jiyong was thrown from the front door, tripping and falling. He scraped his hands for the third time this week.

"Please, it wasn't _my_ fault! I-I tried!"

"Then you should have tried harder, Jiyong! He trusted you! He called _you_! And _you_ are the one that got there too late! And now he's gone forever! It's all _your_ fault, Kwon Jiyong. I hope you carry it for _the rest of your life._"

Seunghyun's father retreated inside, slamming the door closed as he left Jiyong out in the street to claw at the tears falling from his eyes. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe. His chest was too tight. Maybe it was his tie? Too tight, too hot.

He stood. The door opened and Chaerin sprinted out to him, hands clutching his sagging shoulders as he tried to curl in on himself. She asked him what he wanted to do if he couldn't go inside.

"You should go in, you... You shouldn't have to miss this just because I can't be there. I'm gonna..." he scratched at his nose and touched his knuckles to his cheek. "I'm gonna call a friend for a visit, probably. And I'll see you tomorrow?"

She hesitated but then nodded. He needed his time, he'd call when he was ready.

She was there. Waiting at the doors of his home for him, just like he'd asked her to be. He knew that she wouldn't say no. He didn't even get the chance to explain why before she was agreeing. She didn't care, and that was more than fine with him. The less time he had to spend answering her questions meant he could spend more time getting what he wanted from her. What he needed from her, or thought he did. The line was pretty blurry right now.

He walked right up to her where she stood, not even bothering to greet her before he smashed his lips onto hers. She groaned against his lips and dug her nails into the skin of his back as he somehow managed to open the door and push the two of them through it. Shards of glass crunched beneath their shoes as they pushed one another through the house. They knocked each other into walls and corners and furniture as they clawed, desperately at the other's clothes. Just because they were only here to fuck doesn't mean they can't enjoy themselves on the way there.

She wanted to see him bleeding and he wanted to be high, and neither of them saw any reason that they both shouldn't get what they want. They made a stop at Jiyong's dresser before they ever even made it to the bed, her hands traveling neglected parts of him as he dug in his dresser for his next high. He knew somewhere deep down that she wouldn't be able to give him the high that he wanted by herself. Finally finding the baggie he was searching for, he ripped it open and shifted the little tablets around in his palm while she stared up at him from her place on her knees.

She managed to pull down his impossibly tight jeans from where they rested on his hips until they were down to his knees. He let her do as she pleased as he popped three of the little purple ecstasy pills onto his tongue. They both knew that the drugs would take a while to kick in, but he also knew that, since he was doing it with a doctor on hand right now, he'd probably be just fine despite taking two pills too many. He'd done this before, it'd just been a while. He pushes those memories to the back of his mind when she wraps her lips around his length.

She's not the best at this, but nobody ever is. Except for Youngbae, who Jiyong thought was magical at everything he did, but especially this. He thought that maybe he could pretend that this was Youngbae instead of Heonae, but he couldn't. She was too different. Too small, too... Woman. He didn't dislike her for being a woman, no, he just didn't like her as much because she wasn't Youngbae. She was here to serve as a sort of distraction in Youngbae's absence, so Jiyong figured he'd probably be seeing lots of Heonae for a while.

He tilts his head back and tries to pretend he's literally anywhere except for where he is now, with anyone other than her. Fully aware that Jiyong isn't paying any attention to her, she pulls a pocket knife from her bra and opens it before dragging the blade across his already scarred thighs. He jolts and looks down at her where she's still blowing him as the blood flows down his thigh. The cut was anything but light and he knew that if this one really needed stitches, it was going to leave a hell of a scar later on. He didn't know whether to be pissed or not, so he moaned as he finally decided just to give in to her.

_"How many pills? God damn you to Hell, Kwon Jiyong! You promised me this was over! You swore to me you were done and then I find you like this?!" Youngbae yelled. "How much longer are you planning to go on like this? Until I come home and I find you dead in a puddle of your own vomit?! Is that what it'll take to finally end this? Do I have to find you here dead for you to stop using?!" He cried, desperate for the point to reach his friend._

_Jiyong just... Shrugged. He didn't know what to say to Youngbae this time. This was the third time they'd had this conversation in six months._

_"People are going to notice there's something wrong with you, Kwon Jiyong, and one day you will too. I just hope that day comes before these pills fucking _kill _you. But that's what you're trying to do, isn't it? You're trying to kill yourself with these?"_

_Jiyong rubbed his hands together, biting his lip. He could try to lie and tell Youngbae no, but they'd both know he was a liar. He was a shitty liar. Only when it came to Youngbae._

_"What else have you picked back up behind my back, Jiyong? Huh? Do I have to do another goddamn intervention for you? Do I need to drive you to rehab?"_

_Jiyong stared up at Youngbae. They both knew Jiyong would never willingly go to rehab. It was going to take much more._

_"Swear to Christ, Jiyong, I'm getting this close to beating the shit out of you." Youngbae held his hand up to gesture, but his fingers were touching. "I will beat the goddamned drugs out of you if that's what it takes."_

_Jiyong stared at him, almost like he was daring Youngbae to really do it. He thought it might work, maybe it was what he really needed. A good ass beating. He knew Youngbae could and would easily beat the shit out of him too, but the problem is that Jiyong would probably thank him for doing so. Slowly, Jiyong shrugged, then slowly began to nod, surrendering himself to Youngbae's will._

_Youngbae grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up to stand, then took a deep breath before smacking Jiyong across the face as hard as he could._

Jiyong blinked. Heonae was standing in front of him with wide eyes. He blinked again. She informed him that he must have zoned out pretty good because she'd been blowing him for 20 minutes and his dick was still into it, but he wasn't responding to her at all. He blinked wetness from his eyes before pulling her to him and kissing her as roughly as he could. He wanted to forget, even though he didn't. Maybe getting back on the drugs wouldn't be so bad if it meant he'd be able to see Youngbae's face all the time.

For now though, with the events of tomorrow morning looming over him he wanted to forget all about it for as long as he could. She let him. Fuck, she even encouraged it as she pushed him to sit on his own couch. He wouldn't let her near the bed. That was a sacred place for people he loved and she wasn't it. When he looked down, he saw new stitches in his thigh, until she sat down on it. He couldn't feel it, thanks to the pills.

She took her shirt off and he couldn't lie, under her scrubs, she was sporting some nice tits, but he tried not to look at them because for now they weren't really doing anything for him, really. But she kissed him, and he kissed her back. He'd slept with women before, it'd just been a while. It didn't take him too long to get back into the swing of things.

He managed to sleep with her once, then a second, third, and fourth time. She was slowing down way before Jiyong was even thinking about it, but he knew it was going to happen. She only brought a handful of condoms, and she had tiny hands. Once their last condom was gone, Jiyong rolled over for his twelfth cigarette in the last four hours. She was trying to cuddle up to him, but he was hot and sweaty, and so was she and he hated the feeling of her skin on his right now.

He scootched away and she followed until he got out of the bed and wrapped his robe around him. He smoked while he stood in the center of his room.

She watched him for a long moment then smiled. "You want me to leave now, don't you?"

"I have a funeral to go to in the morning. It would be nice to get some uninterrupted sleep."

She didn't try to speak to him while she gathered her clothes and put them back on. She wasn't angry. She knew that she did what she was invited here for and now her job here was done. She couldn't help but stare at the scratches she'd knifed into Jiyong's back and shoulders though. He could feel them all over. He hated it and loved it all at once. As long as Chaerin didn't see him without a shirt on for a while he wouldn't have to try explaining himself to her.

He stood by his window to finish out his cigarette. It was raining outside. He didn't bother to walk her out. He knew she was gone when he finally heard the front door close and saw her walking down the street. She didn't have an umbrella, so she'd be soaking wet before she got to wherever she was going. He hoped she got sick so he wouldn't have to see her for a while. He knew he couldn't be so lucky.

Absently, he snuffed his cigarette on his shoulder, next to his fading tattoo, and then walked into the bathroom. He saw himself in the mirror and wanted to puke. He was soaked with sweat, bleached hair stuck to his forehead. His face was sunk due to the lack of sleep in the last few days and all over his neck and jaw were hickeys and lipstick marks that he began frantically trying to scrub off.

Once finally showered and looking slightly less horrible than before, he smoked one final cigarette before tossing himself down onto the bed and finally letting the darkness consume him once more.


	10. Chapter 9 // "Without you, I'll go crazy."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this has taken so long. I haven't forgotten, there's just been a lot of drama that has kept me from continuing recently. Thank you for being patient and thank you for coming back if you do.

_Jiyong groaned at the overwhelming amount of light streaming in through his open curtains. He heard a chuckle from somewhere next to him, and he rolled his body towards it. He wrapped his arm around Youngbae's waist and pulled the older man to his chest._

_Youngbae chuckled and pushed at Jiyong's chest. "We can't stay in bed forever."_

_"Yes we can," he mumbled tiredly. "Nothing bad can happen here."_

_He felt Youngbae's nose trailing along his jaw. "We can't exactly have sex in the kitchen after breakfast if we never get out of bed, either."_

_It was almost enough to coax Jiyong out of bed, but he just held Youngbae tighter. That is until Youngbae hiked his leg over Jiyong's waist and shifted to straddle him. He felt Youngbae's hands trailing over his chest before he uncovered his eyes. Looking up, he was delighted to see Youngbae's tanned skin lit up by the morning light. Tiredly trailing his fingers over Youngbae's cross tattoo, Jiyong smiled._

_He felt light, and content for the first time in a while but there's something nagging at the back of his mind that he can't figure out, so he pushes it farther away just to laze in this time he's been given with Youngbae. It's quiet and peaceful as they take one another in, and then Jiyong sits up, his own pale chest brushing against Youngbae's as he does so. Youngbae's hands slide up into Jiyong's hair just like always and Jiyong feels like he can breathe in a way he hasn't for so long._

_He wraps his arms around Youngbae and enjoys their lazy kisses in the early morning light. He hears Youngbae take in a shaking breath and when he looks up, Youngbae is already looking at him. Glancing down, Jiyong can see the blood pouring out of Youngbae's wounded abdomen and he begins to panic. He can feel Youngbae's cold hands on his cheeks and when he looks up at his face and then back again, Jiyong is the one holding the knife to Youngbae's skin._

_Looking back up into the face of the man he loves, Jiyong cries out. He's pale and cold and his eyes have glossed over and there are tears on his cheeks. "Jiyong... You have to wake up."_

Jiyong shot upright in his bed, screaming and sobbing the moment he opened his eyes.

He screamed so loud that his throat hurt and sobbed so hard his whole body shook with the force of them as he tried desperately to fold in on himself and disappear. He digs his nails into his shoulders to try and feel something other than the empty hurt that's taken over him but it doesn't work. Nothing works until he feels other hands on his shoulders and he looks up and through his blurry, tear-filled eyes, he sees Chaerin and throws himself into her arms where she holds him until he finally manages to breathe.

She doesn't ask him any questions, she's not sure if she wants the answers. It's been a while since she's seen Jiyong have a nightmare, and even longer since he's had one like this.

No matter how much better Chaerin makes him feel, he continues to scream and sob and cling to her like a life preserver in the ocean, and maybe right now she is. Once he finally manages to really catch his breath, his throat is so sore that it hurts to swallow.

He doesn't realize he's lost his voice until he tries to ask her what time it is. Her heart sank listening to him. He began reaching for his suit before she could even answer, but she stopped him. "Jiyong-hyung... It's four in the morning."

He pauses, then slowly nods before getting up and retreating to the bathroom. He leaves the door open. She's seen the scratches and hickeys, he already knows. He can see them plain as day in the mirrored wall of the bathroom. He tries to ignore them as he stares himself down. He sees movement by the door and for a split second he swears it's Youngbae, but then Chaerin steps into view and he lets out a breath. He doesn't know if he's disappointed or not.

"What happened to you last night, Hyung? Was it that girl?"

_"What happened to you last night, Jiyong-hyung? Were you attacked by wolves?" Seungri teased, poking at the dark love bites along Jiyong's neck and jaw._

_Jiyong thought he must've been the only one to catch Youngbae's blush from across the dressing room. "Something like that, right, Jiyongi?"_

_He shakes his head and tries to hide his smile by touching the back of his hand to his mouth. "Yeah. Something like that, Hyung."_

_Seunghyun makes his way through the room with a cup of coffee. "Must've been a damn good time, I swore she'd never stop making all that noise."_

_Youngbae again blushed. "Must just mean that our Jiyongi is good at what he does."_

_Jiyong turns his back on the group to finally change into the first outfit of tonight's concert and the moment his shirt comes off he can hear Daesung and Seungri screaming. He catches a glance of himself in the mirror nearby and his jaw drops. He's got scratches all over his shoulders and hickeys along the back of his neck tattoo and down his spine. He quickly turns around but has to physically stop himself from griping at Youngbae in front of everyone._

_He doesn't miss the way Youngbae bites his lip to hide his smile._

He blinks then glances over his shoulder to Chaerin. "Yeah... Yeah it was that girl."

She points to his legs, exposed by Jiyong only wearing his underwear. "Did she do that to you too?"

He looks down at it and fights a groan at the sight. The area around it is bruised and there's crusted blood around some of the thread. He nods nonetheless as he pulls on his lounge-pants. She doesn't ask him any more questions about it and he's glad because he wouldn't know what to say. She tells him that she's going to go make breakfast since it doesn't seem like either of them will be getting any more sleep this morning.

He decided to shower and let the scalding hot water sting his new wounds. He hisses in pain each time he stands beneath the water but there's not much else he can do. The soap stings him more than the water but it has to be done. He finally washes his hair for the first time since stripping the color and then finally exits the shower. Standing naked in front of the mirror, his only thoughts are to smash it and hope that not being able to see himself will fix the problem with how he looks.

The bruises from his fight with the Americans were beginning to fade, but all of Heonae's marks were still there, accompanied by the sunken-ness of Jiyong's lack of sleep.

Instead, he takes the time to fix his hair. All he really does is blow-dry it, brush it out and then split it down the middle and push it away from his face, but doing anything is better than leaving it the way that it was. Upon inspecting the marks along his neck, shoulders, and jaw, he was suddenly glad he used to get so many of these, way back when he still had a regular makeup artist.

She accidentally taught him how to cover them himself when she thought he wasn't paying attention. Digging in the drawers in his counter, he pulled out some of the makeup he hadn't had to use in a while and smeared the green correctional makeup over his dark purple hickeys and sighed. It would take a few minutes to fix, but he knew it could be done. Following the green with concealer and blending was easy. It was a little difficult to do in the places he couldn't see so well, but he eventually managed to do it.

The moment he exits his bedroom, he realizes that Chaerin must've cleaned some things because there are several clear, glass-free paths through the house. Silently, he takes the broom and continues her work. He doesn't enter the kitchen until he's cleaned the glass from the floor in every room and disposed of it. When he finally does enter the kitchen, he watches as Chaerin manages to slice her finger while cutting up bacon.

He crosses the kitchen and manages to gently yank her to the sink and run her hand under the cold water, much like he'd done for Youngbae not too long ago. When he looks down at Chaerin, he can almost see Youngbae in her, but then he blinks and he's gone from Jiyong's vision and it's just Chaerin. Sad, small, and scared. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and kisses her head as he cares for her wound.

"You did a good job with your makeup, Hyung." She says gently. "Do you want help with the rest of it?"

He nods a little and says thanks to her before bandaging her finger. "I'll finish breakfast."

Jiyong was silent as he dressed in his funeral attire for the third day in a row. After today, he thought, he'd just burn this suit entirely so he never has to see it again. That would have to settle as his closure because with Youngbae's funeral today and YG's interview tomorrow, he wouldn't get the chance to sit down and breathe on his own for a while.

Before he pulls his shirt on, he takes the time to stare at his bare wrists and the scabs adorning them both. Youngbae wouldn't want this, but then again, he wasn't really here anymore. Jiyong took in a sharp breath as he grabbed his blade out from where he kept it in his wallet.

When he exited his bedroom he gave Chaerin a smile. He ignored the feeling of the bandaids on his wrists against the jewelry in the same place and tucked his cigarettes into his pocket as they made their way towards the door. He was lighting one the second they got into the car. This is the one funeral he insisted on driving himself to. He was convinced that it would help keep himself in line if he had to have enough focus to drive there and drive back, especially with a passenger.

He manages to focus all of the way there, up until he stops the car next to the cemetery. Youngbae insisted on having a funeral here instead of anywhere else. This was a very untraditional funeral, but Youngbae's family was adhering to his will. He wanted his funeral to be held in front of the family crypt and he wanted the members of Big Bang to carry his casket inside.

As the only living member of Big Bang, Jiyong couldn't refuse when Youngbae's parents called.

The final pallbearers, not including Jiyong, were mostly family, including Hyunbae, and Hyorin's father and brother.

As Chaerin approached the chairs, Jiyong told her he was going to stand, since he would have to stand anyways. He argued the point with her until Hyorin approached him.

"That's nonsense, Jiyong. You'll sit with me, won't you?"

"Hy-Eunran." He turns and bows to her, but she stops him with a hand on the shoulder. Standing, he can't find it in himself to tell her no. "Of course I'll sit with you."

She takes his hand, and the engagement ring from Youngbae that she wears catches the light. Absently, he begins to fiddle with his own ring from Youngae that adorns his opposite hand. They sit, and Chaerin sits directly behind Jiyong so he can have his space, but so she can still be there if he needs her.

_ "Youngbae, what the hell is this?"_

_He smiled, leaning into Jiyong's shoulder. "I guess you could call it a promise ring."_

_Jiyong stood, catching Youngbae off guard. "You can't do these things! You know what these rings mean to other people, I don't know how you could get me one and not assume it would mean the same thing to me!"_

_"Jiyong, lower your voice!" Jumping up from the bed, he got closer to the younger star. "I didn't think you'd get so upset. I thought you'd like it..."_

_"I do like it, Sun, and that's the problem! I love it and you knew that! You knew what this would mean to me and you brought it home anyway!" His breath was catching in his throat. They'd been living together again for a while now. Totally inseparable at this point, nothing was out of the ordinary... Except this. Everything was normal except Youngbae bringing him this monumental gift in the middle of the day when the boys were here and suspected nothing._

_Youngbae paid no mind and simply took the ring from the box and began putting it on Jiyong's left ring finger. "If you put it there, Sun, it's going to be really obvious..."_

_With a huff and a kiss to Jiyong's temple, he instead fitted the ring onto the same finger of the opposite hand. "There."_

_Still angry, Jiyong looked up to Youngae. "What's it supposed to be promising?"_

_Missing just a couple of beats, he sighed and said, "That if we don't stay together in this life, I'll be with you in the next."_

He still wasn't sure what that meant, but he wore the ring anyways. It felt wrong not to. On the days he wasn't wearing it he felt empty unless he managed to keep it on his person throughout the day. And now that he was sitting here, next to Eunran in the grass just feet from Youngbae's casket, he couldn't leave the ring alone. His knee began to bounce and he couldn't help it. Eunran put her hand on his knee as a form of comfort and for a moment it worked, but every time he looked up at Youngbae's face in the photograph nearby, he thought he was going to lose it.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, so he instinctively leaned back into it thinking it was Chaerin. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, ever so slightly, so he reached up to put his hand over hers only to feel his own shirt beneath his fingertips. Glancing back, he realized Chaerin was having a conversation with the man next to her, and that both of her hands were in her lap. Shaking it off, he turned back to the front.

Halfway through the service, as he adjusted his sunglasses to hide his tearing eyes, he felt the hand on his shoulder again. This time it squeezed so hard there's no way it couldn't be Chaerin, but when he reached for it he again felt nothing but the fabric of his shirt. He turned to Chaerin and quietly asked her if she'd been touching his shoulder, to which she responded no, and that since she was directly behind him she knew nobody else had either.

He thought he was losing his mind, and maybe he was. Youngbae was gone less than a week and Jiyong had already been indulging and drugs and spontaneous sex and the like. Is this what it felt like in the early stages of losing your mind?

By the end of Youngbae's service, Jiyong was ready to go. He was ready to leave so he could lose his composure away from all of these people. He refused to be seen the way he knew he'd look. He refused to cry and shake and scream in front of these people. He refused to let out all of the pent up anger and sadness in front of these people.

He hated feeling this way. He didn't want to be angry anymore. He didn't want to be sad. At this point, he'd rather be empty than sitting here with all of these feelings. He's never known how to handle them and now that Youngbae is gone he truly doesn't know what to do with himself.

He can't exactly go to Youngbae for help anymore. Not while he's still alive. _"Remember this moment."_ He'd said. His dying words, as if Jiyong could forget. He remembered the EMT rubbed his back all the way to the hospital once Youngbae was gone.

Standing with the others next to Youngbae's casket, his jeweled hands shook. Following the guidance of the others, they lifted the heavy wooden box and carried it inside the crypt. It took a moment of coordination for them to fit Youngbae's casket into it's designated place, where he would rest forever.

Jiyong was the last to leave, sparing one last glance behind him to where he'd be leaving Youngbae behind. Finally, he let a single tear slide down his cheek as he felt the weight of another hand in his own. Knowing full well he was alone that time, his trembling lips formed a sad smile.

"Rest now, my love. You had a good life. I'll see you in the next one."


	11. Chapter 10 // "I can't find a purpose in these foolish feelings."

Daesung clutched onto Seungri's arm as he began walking away.

"Where are you going?!" Daesung cried, following behind him.

"We're needed elsewhere at the moment." Was all he said before Daesung blinked and was suddenly standing outside of Seunghyun's home.

It stood charred against the night sky, smoke traveling upwards from the windows. He looked around, confused until his eyes landed on a body laying on the concrete. Based on what he already knew, that he and Seungri were dead, he feared that this meant Seunghyun was gone as well.

His fears were confirmed when he walked closer and he came across Seunghyun's body. He was burnt and charred and if it wasn't for the fact that Seungri brought him here, he wouldn't have recognized this as his Hyung. There was barely enough left to make that conclusion. He couldn't stand to look at his face, where one of his eyes had melted out of his skull. If he weren't dead, he would've puked.

Seungri was staring off to the right, and when Daesung looked that way he spotted a perfectly healthy-looking Seunghyun, staring up at what used to be his home.

Seunghyun turned and saw Seungri and Daesung and his heart dropped. He knew Seungri had been dead, so he couldn't possibly be here.

Approaching them, he let out a shaking breath. "We're dead... Aren't we?"

Seungri touched him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Seunghyun. You've guessed it... Do you remember what happened to you?"

"I..." Seunghyun takes a shaking breath as he looks up at the smoke in the sky. "I burned."

On the ground, not far away, sprawled out on his back, was Jiyong. His brown eyes were full of tears as he stared up at the sky. His chest was rapidly rising and falling as Seunghyun approached him. "Could he hear me?"

"You could try," Seungri said gently as Seunghyun crouched down.

"Youngbae is still out there." He whispered, not far from Jiyong's face. Then, almost immediately, Jiyong rose and sprinted down the road.

The three of them followed Jiyong down the road for quite some time before stopping where he stopped outside of the theater. Daesung lunged forward as Jiyong began to look under the sheets, but Seunghyun held him back.

"Hyung, he's going to see me!"

"Let him see you. He has to know. If he doesn't see you now, who knows when he'll find out."

"Daesung... _Oh, God_..." They hear before they see Jiyong practically throw himself backward. Seunghyun leans over Jiyong's shoulder as the still living of the two inspects the now broken skin of his hands. He's breathing so heavily Sunghyun thinks if he was still living, the sound would have made him out of breath as well.

"Look." He whispers as cops and small children emerge from the theater. Jiyong, as if on command, looks up at the door.

Jiyong stands and sprints inside. A cop is about to follow him, but Seungri touches the man's shoulder. "Let him go. The building is unstable."

Inside, through the dust, they watch Jiyong attempting to free Youngbae.

"He's not strong enough..." Daesung whispers as Jiyong attempts to save their friend.

Seunghyun wastes no time to step up onto the rubble, at the same time as Jiyong. The rubble around them shifts and Seunghyun attempts to block rubble from falling onto Jiyong, but he can't. He realizes he has no physical power anymore, and if he does, he can't use it that way.

Youngbae screamed as he was lifted, Seungri and Daesung lending their strength. The sound made Seunghyun cringe in a way he didn't know that he could.

They followed as Jiyong and Youngbae were loaded into the ambulance and watched it speed away.

Youngbae opened his eyes. He could hear the sirens for a split second before they were turned off. He turned and saw Jiyong sitting beside him with his head in his hands. He was crying, he seemed exhausted. He watched, as Jiyong looked up at another man in the ambulance.

"I'm so tired of fighting... He... He was all I had left."

Youngbae felt tugs on his heartstrings at the sadness and defeat in Jiyong's voice. He watched as Jiyong's jeans shifted and the scarred skin of his legs was revealed through the new holes in the fabric.

_Walking into Jiyong's room without knocking was always dangerous, even when they were younger. The first time, he caught Jiyong masturbating, and the second, he was sobbing into his pillow. Those were the two most shocking things that happened when he entered without knocking, until now. Now he could see Jiyong sitting on his bed, their bed, really, his back to the door._

_From where he was standing, there was no way he could miss the smooth motions of Jiyong's hands as he guided the sharp blade across his thigh. Youngbae was in shock so long, Jiyong made three whole cuts before he could snap out of it._

_"Jiyong!" He cried, springing forward finally. He smacked the blade from Jiyong's hand and knelt down on the floor in front of this man, his lover, his best friend._

_Jiyong didn't know how to react past covering his bloody thighs with his equally bloodied hands. Youngbae didn't know what to do beyond dropping his head against Jiyong's bloodied skin and crying. "How could you do this and I not notice?"_

_Jiyong's voice was quiet and unsteady. "You know how."_

_It was true, to an extent. Youngbae thought he might know exactly how he never noticed. "I never see you without pants on..."_

_He tried to think about it, just to confirm it with himself, and his statement seemed to be true. They never got the time for sex anymore, and when they did it wasn't much more than something quick and hurried and hidden away somewhere. There was never enough time to get undressed, which meant there was never enough time to see Jiyong in that light anymore._

_The closest he came to seeing Jiyong without pants is when they do manage to have sex, but it doesn't last long before Youngbae is turned around and Jiyong is taking control in the way that he likes._

_"I'm so sorry I couldn't help you..." He whimpers and Jiyong's breath catches._

_"It's not your fault. You spend so much time trying to fix me, but you can't. I'm not complete..." It sounds like there's something more he wants to say, but he doesn't._

_"It's like a puzzle, but every time I take it out of the box it puts itself back into, it's like it's missing more and more pieces."_

_Youngbae spends that night cleaning Jiyong's wounds and promising to take better care of him from then on. It was less than six months after that when they split._

Youngbae looks to the left and he can see his body. He knows it has to be his with the way Jiyong is clinging onto the hand. He rubs Jiyong's back all the way to the hospital.

When he steps out of the ambulance, he sees some familiar faces, and he's not sure what to do other than smile. They embrace him, and he apologizes to Daesung.

"Why are you apologizing, hyung?" Daesung muses into Youngbae's shoulder.

"Because I got you killed..."

"You couldn't have known, hyung," Seungri mumbled into his ear.

"I asked him to come with me, and now he's dead! I asked him to be with me today, and he died! I got him killed!" He sobbed as he pulled away from the younger men. "I... I'm sorry... I need a minute, I..." Youngbae let out a shuddering breath as he followed Jiyong at a distance into the hospital.

Jiyong looked worse off than he really was. Most of his injuries were scrapes and bruises, but his shoulder seemed to be pretty bad, despite his refusal to go into a sling. The group reunited in the waiting room, although being dead meant that regular limitations no longer applied to them. It was mainly out of respect, but partially out of the pure shock of being dead still. Is this all it was? Following their loved ones around forever?

They learned that it didn't have to be. They could decide all together right now to go on to Heaven and be done with this life like it's intended. But they all decided, they couldn't leave without Jiyong. They wouldn't.

Jiyong walks through the waiting room following behind some hospital personnel, and the group follows. They quickly discover they're on their way to the morgue. They vaguely wonder how they all managed to be together in his hospital, but it comes down to this hospital being the closest to them all. 

They hovered outside of the door, unsure if they wanted to truly enter. Youngbae was the first to step through the doorway. Which also meant his were the first eyes to spy Jiyong slicing his own wrist.

Youngbae called his friend's name, the same time as someone else did. She sauntered through the door and Youngbae could feel the deceitfulness bursting from her and he wanted to vomit.

The whole scene that played out in front of him made him sick to his stomach. Seeing Jiyong with this girl was horrible, and the fact that they were three feet from his own dead body made it worse.

"I haven't even been dead for two hours and you're already putting your tongue down her throat?!" He snaps, though he knows Jiyong can't hear him. He feels hands on him and he knows they're Daesung's on instinct.

"It won't do anything to dwell, hyung. You said it yourself, Jiyong handles grief differently than most people."

He hated that Daesung was right and he hated more that he was using his own words against him. He wasn't wrong and he knew it and it hurt him and he didn't know why. Scratch that, he knew why. Of course, he knew why. He was hurt to see Jiyong with this woman and there was nothing he could do about it because he threw his chance away and that was it.

Youngbae turned away and opted to stand in the hallway instead.

Over the course of the next days, they all learned things they didn't ever want to know before. Daesung learned just how close Jiyong and Youngbae used to be, based solely on the way Youngbae hovered around Jiyong. He truly felt the distance. He wanted to say things to Jiyong and he couldn't and it _hurt_.

They all saw the way Jiyong wore Youngbae's stolen necklace and Seungri's bracelet gift through it all. They saw the way he began to spiral and lie to Chaerin. There was nothing slow about Jiyong's descent into madness.

They watched as Chaerin doctored his self-inflicted wounds on the nights he finally managed to sleep. He put so much time in between rests it was terrifying. When he did sleep, it wasn't for long before the nightmares woke him and he resigned himself to more staying awake.

The morning that Jiyong woke and dressed in his suit for the first time, Daesung stuck to Jiyong's side like glue. They gathered today was the day of Daesung's funeral, based on all the talking Chaerin had done of it. It took all Daesung had not to tell her to shut up about it because of the obvious effects that it had on Jiyong. He refrained only because he knew she couldn't hear him anyway.

At his funeral, he almost wanted them to open his casket, but he knew that there would be no point in showing people the ground-beef he'd become. On second thought, he was glad they wouldn't open it.

Jiyong excused himself to the bathroom, and at first, they weren't going to follow him. Then they saw the suspicious way he was glancing over his shoulder every few feet, so they followed and he led them right into Dr. Lee's office. They didn't miss the way he let her push him around, nor did they miss the horrible things she said to him.

When she asks him to cut himself for her, Youngbae loses it. He lunges for her, but nothing happens. He doesn't connect the way he would if he were still alive, and the frustration hits him like a ton of bricks because there's nothing he can do for Jiyong but watch as he drags the blade across the back of his wrist. Jiyong didn't even protest to her orders.

"Nobody wants to see how desperate you are but me." She says, and Youngbae screams at her, just inches from her ear until she removes herself from Jiyong's space.

While she's not looking, Jiyong reaches into his bag and pulls out a pill bottle that Seunghyun recognizes in an instant. "Those are mine, aren't they?"

She rips them from Jiyong's hand and promises him something better, something stronger, and Youngbae swears that if he was still a physical being he would have rocked her shit already.

Walking through YGHQ was a nightmare for the boys. Seeing all of their old friends that probably didn't know they were even gone tell Jiyong to pass along hellos was so saddening.

"Did you bother to tell them? Do you even care enough about them?! Are they people to you or just walking bags of money like the rest of us?!" Jiyong yelled, and Seunghyun instantly stepped forward to grab Jiyong's arm, just like he'd done 100 times before, but Jiyong yanked his arm away.

Seunghyun looked at his hand in shock. The move Jiyong made was deliberate, which means he felt the whole thing. He must've thought it was Chaerin or something. They listened in shock as Hyunsuk decided to tell Jiyong, without giving him the option, that he was going to be the one to tell the world that they were gone and that Bigbang was over.

Daesung thought he was going to cry, and he did. Turns out that was something he could still do.

They followed him home that night in silence, unsure what to say to one another if there was even anything to be said. They watched as he stared, empty, around the house. They could feel the anger radiating off of him, poisoning the air around him as his chest heaved. Suddenly, he shot forward and wrapped his fingers around his baseball bat.

They all instinctively ducked as their friend began swinging on anything in his reach. So many things ended up broken, but they couldn't exactly blame him. He had a right to his anger and anyway it presented itself, even if they didn't agree. There was nothing that they could have done, dead or alive, to ease this pain inside of him.

Finally, after wearing himself out, he collapsed on the floor in a pile of glass and Youngbae shot forward to try and stop him but nothing happened. He laid there for three hours in the glass and his own blood before finally retreating to bed, falling asleep with his bat clutched to his chest.

Seunghyun stared up at his family home. He hadn't even thought to check on his family until now, and he missed them so horribly he couldn't wait for Jiyong to cross through the door. But he hesitated, and Seunghyun couldn't figure out why, or why he was hiding behind Chaerin. He stayed like that, dazed and confused, and it only got worse for him when he watched his own father, his flesh and blood, toss his best friend out onto the street on his ass.

His nonexistent breath caught in his throat as he listened to the words his father was throwing at Jiyong and he'd never felt the need to be as disrespectful to his father until now, when he stood protectively between Jiyong and his father's angry words and yelled, no, screamed. "Go to Hell!"

And then Jiyong was practically begging Chaerin to leave him alone, and Seunghyun was begging her to do the opposite, but she couldn't hear him, or maybe she didn't want to entertain the ideas coming to her mind about what would happen if she left him, versus what would happen if she went with him.

He begged Jiyong, pleaded with him, to stay here and wait for Chaerin. To not go home alone, and to please not call that woman like he was going to, but it was pointless. Jiyong called her, his raspy voice speaking to her the moment she answered his call.

When they returned to Jiyong's house, she was there, and she was waiting and Jiyong was wasting no time getting what he wanted out of her, and she wasn't waiting either. They were here for the same things and Seunghyun couldn't watch, starting the moment Jiyong fished the drugs from his drawers. He was going to go downhill much faster than they anticipated.

Youngbae sat on the edge of Jiyong's bed as he slept, finally. "I can't save you this time, Jiyong... But you knew that, didn't you? This is what you meant when you called me, isn't it?"

None of them knew what to expect when Jiyong woke that morning, but it certainly wasn't the heart-wrenching mix of screams and sobs that tore through him like a knife through paper. He shook, uncontrollable and inconsolable for so long in Chaerin's arms. So they'd been right. He'd been having his nightmares again and now they were worse than ever before and now he was alone. The four of them were no longer a simple phone call away like they used to be when Jiyong woke up like this in the night.

Youngbae follows him to the bathroom when he finally goes there, and he catches his own reflection in the mirror and he thinks that Jiyong does too, but when he turns it's Chaerin that Jiyong's eyes land on instead of him.

The same thing happens again when he stands next to Chaerin as she slices her finger. Jiyong rushes over and Youngbae swears they make eye contact before Jiyong blinks and he focuses on Chaerin.

Later, in the cemetery, Youngbae's breath catches in his throat as he sees her for the first time since the weekend he proposed, basically. His Eunran, his Hyorin, the woman who used to be his everything... Seeing her now didn't have the same effect as it did before. He thought it might be because she was alive and he wasn't, but for all he knew it could have been something else entirely.

He stands behind Jiyong as he sits beside her and watches as the living of the two of them begins fiddling with his ring. He remembered giving the poor boy the gift and knowing that he still wore it brought some kind of comfort to his soul.

Watching Jiyong fiddle was hurting his heart, so gingerly, he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. He watched as Jiyong reached for his hand, and Youngbae felt as they connected, but he knew Jiyong didn't feel the same thing. He glanced back, then back to the front, and Youngbae kept his hands to himself until he heard Jiyong crying ever so quietly. He squeezed the man's shoulder so hard Jiyong actually turned around.

As Jiyong stood in the middle of the crypt, a tear streaming down his cheek as his hands shook, Youngbae's heart broke. Jiyong turned and stared at the resting place of Youngbae's body, and unable to hold it anymore, Youngbae slid his hand into Jiyong's and watched as a small, sad, smile, appeared on Jiyong's face.

"Rest now, my love. You had a good life. I'll see you in the next one."


	12. Chapter 11 // "A day without you is too long."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been gone for so long and I'm sorry. My medication fucks up my sense of time.

_ "How are you feeling today, Jiyong?" Youngbae asked as he sat a cup of coffee in front of the younger man._

_"I feel the same as I did when you asked yesterday, Sun, or when you asked me last week. I feel fine."_

_Unfazed, Youngbae tried again. "I didn't ask G-Dragon how he was feeling, I asked Jiyong, and it would be nice if he would have the decency to give me the truth every once in a while."_

_Jiyong sipped on his coffee. He knew Youngbae wanted the truth, but he didn't know if he could really give it to him._

_"What do you want me to say?"_

_Realizing that he was finally going to get somewhere, Youngbae continues on his gentle approach. "Whatever you want to say, Jiyong."_

_Jiyong scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I always do, Sun. I tell you what I want you to hear because I know the truth is going to hurt you and I can't do that to you! What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that the weight of everything is always just so much that I have to pretend I'm a completely different person in order to cope? Do you want me to tell you that I feel such a strong urge to cut and kill myself all of the time because I feel like I don't deserve to live? Like even breathing is a burden on everyone else at this point? Do you want me to tell you that I've secretly been cutting myself in the shower because I don't want you to see? Because I don't want you to cry? Do you want me to tell you that I want to cry every time I look at your goddamned face because all I can see is the sadness in your eyes? Do you want me to tell you that you make me want to scream and tear my hair out because it would be so much easier for you to just walk away now and forget me so I can't hurt you anymore? So you don't have to try and fix me anymore?"_

_After several long moments of Youngbae's shocked silence, Jiyong continues. "No, I didn't think so. So every day I tell you that I'm fine because it's easier for you than the truth, and that's all I care about..."_

_He laughs bitterly. "Every day I struggle with staying alive, and all I can seem to care about is making it easy for you."_

Jolting upright in bed, Jiyong wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. He remembered that conversation like it was yesterday, even though now it was a long five years since it happened. He lifted his phone from its place on his bedside table, the bright light from the screen illuminating his room. It wasn't even three in the morning yet, but here he was.

Wide awake.

Alone.

Part of him wanted to be alone. Most of him thought he deserved to be alone, especially considering what he has to do today.

He doesn't want to.

He doesn't want to sit in front of an interviewer and tell them, tell the whole world that he's the only one left. He doesn't want to tell them that he's the only member of Bigbang left. He doesn't want to have to sit there and say it out loud.

His hands begin to shake.

He doesn't think that he can. He doesn't think he can say it, because saying it makes it a little too real for him. He knows they're gone, but he doesn't want to say it.

Knowing that he won't be able to go back to sleep this time, he sighs and pulls himself out of bed. His whole body is sore from top to bottom and he can't tell if the feeling is from the drugs or from the cuts all over his body and the way he's been avoiding sleep.

He knows he should clean before Chaerin arrives later, but the thought of even trying to clean is exhausting. He wants to shower, but the idea of it nearly makes him sick so he settles for the next best.

He strips and uses baby wipes to clean himself. It's time-consuming, and the baby wipes sting his wounds but it has to be done. He only hurts himself worse when he scrubs at the dried blood on his skin, cursing the longer it takes to come off.

He looks up in the mirror, and he stops. Standing just behind him, his friends. All of them. They're smiling, but they don't look right. They don't look real, and Jiyong knows it's simply because they aren't real. They aren't there. He blinks, and he keeps blinking until they're gone from his sight.

Not today. He couldn't be this way today. He couldn't be Jiyong today, no. He had to be better, he had to be stronger.

But all of his strength was gone and he wasn't even sure if G-Dragon could save him now.

Jiyong laces up his shoes and ties the extra-long laces around his ankles. He knows he has to leave soon, but with his first real appearance to the media since the Seungri interview, he knows he has to be better. He has to be an impenetrable brick wall. He has to show no emotion for as long as he can help it.

He gets into the car and Hyunsuk greets him, but he can't manage to return the simple 'hello'. He didn't want to start fighting, not this early. They were going to be stuck together all damn day so Jiyong figured he could at least be a moderately civil person. They were both here for the same thing. The same reason, the same people.

"I'm speaking to you, Jiyong."

"And I was ignoring you, Hyunsuk." He quips as he lights a cigarette and blows the smoke in the other man's direction.

Hyunsuk, far too used to Jiyong at this point, simply plucks the cigarette from his lips and tosses it out the window. Jiyong stares, mouth agape. "What is your problem?"

"My problem? What's your problem, Jiyong? I understand you're upset-"

"_Upset?_ I'm sorry, next time I have to tell the whole world that _all of my friends are dead_, I'll try not to be upset."

"Jiyong-"

"Don't."

"Jiyong," Hyunsuk sighs. "I'm upset too."

Jiyong, who'd been holding it together rather well up until this point, actually laughs.

"Yes, Hyunsuk, I can clearly see how horribly upset you are, since you didn't even come to their funerals."

Hyunsuk only stares at Jiyong for a long moment before turning away. Jiyong knew that the older man wouldn't argue with him, because he was right. He knew when and where they were all going to be and he never showed to a single one, just like he never showed to Seungri's funeral either.

He had his chances. He made his choice, and Jiyong refused to let him forget it.

Those boys, those men, his friends, they looked up to Hyunsuk in a way that Jiyong would never understand. And in turn, he betrayed them in the most horrible way possible.

Pulling up to the curb, Jiyong settled his sunglasses over his eyes once more before stepping out of the car with Hyunsuk in tow. He followed Hyunsuk's bodyguard through the twists of the building and into the large interview room that they'd be occupying for the day. The room was filled to the brim with reporters and paparazzi and their flashing lights blinded him for the first few moments like always, but soon they were nothing but a dull annoyance to him.

He feels a weight on his back, and he thinks it might shove him under at any moment now, but it doesn't get heavier. It just sits there, applying pressure and subtly reminding him that aside from Hyunsuk, he is alone.

The four empty chairs at the table remind him too.

He sits in the chair farthest from Hyunsuk and sucks in a breath as he gets settled in before all of the interviewers and reporters about the room.

He can already feel the heavy weight in his chest. He can feel the darkness seeping into him like rainwater into his clothes.

He clears his throat, and he can feel all of the eyes on him, begging for answers to questions still unasked.

He starts to talk, but cuts himself off to clear his throat again. "I... I'm sure most of you are wondering why we've called a press conference without the rest of the band, and..."

He quickly begins to get choked up, and Hyunsuk steps in to take over for him, but he shuts him down instead. "I want..."

Hyunsuk seems to understand because he sits back down. Jiyong swallows down the sadness and the fear and looks out at all of the confused faces in the crowd. Readjusting his sunglasses and blinking away tears, he continues. "I regret to inform you, the other members of Bigbang are... Are no longer with us."

For just a few seconds, Jiyong could feel the tension stuffed into the uncomfortable silence. Then it was chaos.

Jiyong can't keep up with much of what happened after he dropped the news on all of those unsuspecting people. All of their shocked faces are burned into the backs of his eyelids, he thinks. Why else would he see them every time he blinked? They were already back in the car but his ears hadn't stopped ringing yet. The last hour was a blur to him, and nothing he remembered made sense. There's a heavy weight on his thigh, and he's sure he's losing it if he's become hyper aware of the weight of his phone in his pocket.

His leg shakes as he sits in the car, he cards his fingers through his hair and reaches for his pack of cigarettes, knowing that Hyunsuk wouldn't deny him the chance to have one, or more of them now. After that absolute shit show it didn't seem like Hyunsuk was going to have a lot to say for a long time.

It was pissing Jiyong off. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Hyunsuk shook his head while Jiyong lit his cigarette. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you do something?"

His voice is shaking as much as he is and the weight on his thigh is getting heavier and heavier. It becomes so unbearable to him that he digs his phone from his pocket and chucks it across the car. "I can't believe you would just sit there like that..." He shakes his head and takes a long drag from his cigarette. "They trusted you, and you just let those people, the v-vultures! I... I don't know what to say to you, you know?"

Hyunsuk keeps his eyes on Jiyong's phone on the floor of the car. Jiyong's hands shake so bad he can barely keep his cigarette between his fingers as he smokes, so he eventually just throws it out the car window without a second thought.

_"What happened to them in a way that you're the only one left? Were they all together? If they were together, why weren't you there?" He heard being yelled from the crowd, as another stood up near him._

_"Did you abandon them? Did you know something would happen? Did you leave them to die?"_

_And then another. "If they died in the earthquake, where were you?"_

_And the only question he had managed to answer, even if it was only to himself, "If you had the option to sacrifice yourself to save them, would you do it?"_

The answer would always be yes.

He thinks to himself, sitting on the edge of his now rarely-used bed. Yes. If someone came to him now and said that all of his friends would wake up safe and sound in their beds tomorrow morning, and all it would take would be for him to die, he'd do it in a heartbeat. They wouldn't be alone, he knows. They wouldn't have to struggle as hard as he has so far. They would all have one another, unlike him.

They wouldn't wake up all alone with nightmares that keep them from even closing their eyes during the daytime. They'd all be a phonecall away from one another, instead of trapped on the other side of someone else's lifetime.

He caught his reflection in the windows across from his bed and sighed. He needed to pick himself up. He couldn't be like this forever, he knew. He fiddled with his phone, the screen now cracked from the way he'd tossed it across Hyunsuk's car earlier in the day. He responded to two out of two thousand brand new emails and responded to the texts from his mother and Chaerin, sent a new one to Heonae, and then decided he was tired of sitting there in his fucked up bedroom.

He showered, the water turning his skin red from the heat and dressed, though even doing that was a struggle at this point. He had to physically steer himself away from putting on Youngbae's old clothes, and instead pulled on black jeans and a white t-shirt.

He gathers his phone, his keys, his wallet and stuffs them into his jacket pocket before he pulls on his boots. He wraps the laces around his ankles before he ties them and then finally heads out with a short text message to Chaerin alerting her of his plans for the evening. He'll have to come back shortly, so he can see Chaerin off early in the morning.

He realizes, absently, that he's not ready for her to leave him yet. He doesn't really have a choice at this rate though, does he? He can't just hold her hostage for their friendship.

He shakes his head as he grabs his empty cigarette pack from the couch. Scoffing, he tosses it in the vague direction of the trash bin before walking out the front door. He doesn't bother to lock it, really. At this rate he doesn't think he has anything to lose worth worrying about.

He picks up another pack of cigarettes on his way to the club, but he doesn't bother opening it yet. He knows it'll be gone before the night's over anyways no matter what he does with it at this moment in time.

He parks his car in a place he know he won't remember leaving it later on tonight and makes his way inside the club.

The smell of the cigarettes and alcohol hits him immediately but he finds that he doesn't mind. Just like he doesn't mind the thumping of the music inside his chest getting stronger the closer to the bar he gets. He doesn't hesitate to order himself a drink, but he doesn't ask for anything specific, just something strong, hoping it'll get the job done.

Finally, he feels _some_ semblance of peace. He's not sure how long he's been here anymore, and he lost count of how many drinks he'd had after he made it into the double digits. He doesn't care though, because for the first time in _days_ the unearable weight that was sitting on his chest was gone, and it felt like he could finally breathe.

The girl sitting on his lap seems to be just as wasted as he is. He doesn't mind the way she's kissing his neck but he kinda wishes he was aquainted with her well enough to know her name since he was aquainted enough with what was underneath her clothes.

He brings his glass to his lips and tilts it back before he realizes it's empty already. Patting the girl on the thigh makes her get up and sit down in his place as he makes his way in a surprisingly straight line back to the bar for another glass. Everything, for just a few moments, seems completely peaceful.

Then he hears the opening notes to a song he swears he's heard somewhere before. It takes him much too long to recognize his own voice coming through the speakers, but when he does his heart jumps in his chest. Seconds after it's dawned on him that one of his songs is playing through the club, he hears Youngbae's voice coming through the speakers clear as day.

The corner of his lip twitches up into what he thinks resembles a smile. He's missed that voice so much, it didn't dawn on him that it would be so easy to hear it again whenever he wanted, and in such a simple way. He sways lightly with the music, his newest drink clutched much tighter than he originally thought.

It takes him almost as long as it took him to recognize his own voice as it does for him to realize that his heart just _hurts_.

He knew before, of course, but now it's more than clear that the thing that hurts most about all of this is his heart. He's finally realizing, in a new light, that there's a vast hole in the center of his heart, right where he knows his friends used to be. Now he knows that no matter what he does, the hole may get smaller as time goes on but it will never be filled, because they could never be replaced.

He doesn't realize that he's crying until a stray tear makes its way down his cheek, only to be wiped away by the girl from before.

"Are you okay?"

He hesitates for a beat. Is he? Does he want to tell her if he's not?

He gives her a smile, but he's sure she can tell it's fake just as easily as he can. "Of course."

She nods, though he's not sure if she believes him or not. He decided very quickly that he doesn't care too much if she does or doesn't, because she doesn't mean anything to him. He has nothing to prove to this stranger. He wants to say he doesn't have anything to prove to anyone anywhere in the world but he knows that he does.

She walks away and he takes out his phone, typing out a short tweet about how much he loves all of his fans. He sends it before he can even stop himself and within seconds his Twitter notifications are blowing up with likes and retweets and replies, though he doesn't look at any of them. He looks at the time. One in the morning.

He curses. At five, the interview with Hyunsuk will be released, and at six, Chaerin leaves to the airport for her return flight to America... And he'll be all alone.

The thought of being left all alone again hits him like a freight train. If he begins to spiral even farther, or if he has a nightmare in the middle of the night, he won't have anyone there anymore. He won't be able to roll over into Youngbae's arms, or call Daesung on the phone, or go to the room Chaerin is occupying for company.

It'll just be him in his house all alone. He didn't even keep his pets here right now, due to the lack of yard, so he really truly was here all alone.

He supposes that it's better that way, so he can't wake anyone up with his screams or bother a roommate with the company he brings home. He can't even forget to feed his animals if they aren't with him.

Maybe it's better that he's alone, he thinks.

And that's all he knows how to think as he wraps his coat tighter around himself as he powers through the light drizzle of rain outside the club towards his empty home.


	13. Chapter 12 // "But like a joke, I am left alone."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though it's short, I'm on a roll, I can't let you down.

His boots kick the water up around him as he stomps through the streets, any cigarette he lights only staying lit for so long before the rain puts it out. He sheds his wet coat the moment he walks on the door. He drunkenly attempts to hang the coat on the coat rack, only for it to fall on the floor, next to the heap of wood that the rack used to be.

He laughs and stalks father into his home, dropping his things at random intervals as he goes. His wallet hits the coffee table, his keys land on one of the barstools in the kitchen. His shoes are left abandoned next to the stove as he pours himself a glass from his personal collection.

He uses one hand to shed his belt, casually dropping it on the dining table, as he makes his way to his room. He walks with his eyes closed, purposely bumping his shoulders off of the walls every now and then to help guide himself through his home.

Unsure of what he'd do with the rest of his night, he falls into his bed, carefully lifting his glass so as not to spill the sweet liquid inside. He rests comfortably against the pillows, eyes closed. He knows deep down that he only picked this type of alcohol because of the way it reminded him of Youngbae. A faint smile plays on his lips at the thought of him, his Sun.

_The door creaks open, and there on the bed, he can see Youngbae. He's not doing anything special, really, just scrolling through Instagram as he lazes in the sun coming through their bedroom window. Jiyong thinks he looks amazing anyway, and he thinks Youngbae notices him staring._

_Youngbae is no stranger to this side of Kwon Jiyong. He's no stranger to the soft looks Jiyong passes his way or the way his eyes linger just a moment too long on certain places. He doesn't mind. Nobody else sees this part of Jiyong, and he's glad, somewhere deep down, that he can._

_"Yes, my love?" Youngbae calls softly, returning his phone to his nightstand. _

_Jiyong shifts from one foot to the other and puts his shoulder to the door frame. "Nothing. I'm just admiring you."_

_"You're a little far for admiring, Jiyongi, maybe you should come closer."_

_Jiyong doesn't miss the tone Youngbae has taken with him, and he also can't refuse. So he approaches the bed and finally, after a long moment of holding eye contact with Youngbae, he slides easily into their bed. Just as he grabs Youngbae by the jaw, he hears Seunghyun's voice from somewhere in the apartment._

_Youngbae laughs as he steals a kiss and rises to find their friend._

Staring up at the ceiling, Jiyong still smiles as he blinks away stray tears. The alcohol in his blood has made him too lazy to cry, but he thinks that's just fine.

He rises once again from his bed and stumbles towards the kitchen, clumsily discarding his shirt on the floor in the hall.

He takes the final sip from his glass, and when he lowers it he stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with someone standing just on the other side of the island.

It takes just a beat too long for him to recognize the face he's seen so many times before.

Trembling, like his voice, he steps forward, "_Seunghyun_?"

It's not hard to recognize him now, though there were things that were definitely different about him. His hair was blue, and it hadn't been blue in a long time, and with his jacket, it looks like he's just walked off of the set of Bad Boy.

Jiyong's not sure where to look, as he steps closer because there _are_ differences between that Seunghyun and this one. For instance, this one is wearing an eyepatch, and his hair and clothes look burnt. When he breathes out Jiyong can see his breath like it's cold outside but when he takes another step forward it looks like thick, dark smoke.

And he watches, as the face of his friend ever so slowly turns darker and darker, and then he smiles.

"Long time, no see!" He barks, and the noise is so loud it makes Jiyong's ears ring. If he had any doubts before now he's positive that this isn't Seunghyun at all.  
The voice echoes around him and when Jiyong blinks, Seunghyun is even closer than before, and he jumps back at the shock.

"What the hell are you?" Jiyong drunkenly cries, leaning against the wall behind him for support.

The voice echoes again, sounding just like Seunghyun and like something else entirely all at once. "I'm TOP. The real one is coming."

He shakes his head, tears springing to the corners of his eyes. "I-I don't understand..."

Once again, he blinks and Seunghyun, no, TOP, is closer than he was before. He feels a searing hot pain on his chest as he's pushed backward and onto the floor. "You should! You know why I'm here, Jiyong... I'll make you pay for what you did... I'll make you go crazy."

Jiyong grabs his cup from where it laid on the floor beside him and threw it at the man towering over him... And once he heard it shatter against the far wall of the kitchen, the figure disappeared and he was left alone. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he tried to make sense of it all.

Looking down at his bare chest and in the skin over his heart, clear as day, was a handprint burned into his skin. Tentatively, he brushed his fingers over it, just to be sure. There was no missing the way the skin rose up, red and angry compared to the paleness around it.

Everything that happened in the last couple of moments became far too much all at once. He couldn't bear it, and he screamed. He curled into himself and dragged his fingers through his hair, screaming so loud he was sure he'd wreck his voice. He couldn't stop the tears from pouring down his face anymore. He couldn't hold it.

That had been Seunghyun, however imaginary he may have been. He was there and he was so, so different from any version of Seunghyun that Jiyong had ever known. Jiyong could _feel_ the evil and the hatred rolling off of him, and he couldn't bear it.

He pulled on his hair so hard he thought he'd tear it out and he screamed and sobbed until the combination of tears and alcohol wore him out to the point he passed out, curled into a ball against the kitchen wall.

Seungri stands with his back against the wall opposite Jiyong's sleeping frame, hands in his pockets. Daesung was crouched near Jiyong, desperately trying to make sense of what they'd just seen.

Seunghyun paced the floor on the other side of the island, and Youngbae couldn't will himself into the room.

"Is this what death is? Following our loved ones around, watching them lose their minds for all eternity?" Daesung wonders aloud, and Seungri shakes his head. He wants to bring some light into the conversation, but he knows he can't.

"Not an eternity, really. Just until they die."

Daesung rolls his eyes, "Right, my bad, we get to watch hyung lose his mind until he dies. That's _so_ much better."

He was bitter and it was clear, but they all were. And they all had every right to be.

"He said my name," Seunghyun says quietly as he leans against the island. "Whatever it was that he was so afraid of, whatever he saw, it was me."

Jiyong jolts awake when he feels something touch his shoulder, and his first reaction is to swat it away as he jumps in the other direction. He's already reacted before he looks up, bleary-eyed and hungover to see Chaerin.

He runs his fingers through his hair and touches his knuckles to his cheek, glancing at the time. 4:14. Great.

He looks up at her again and she looks more concerned than he's ever seen her, but he tries his best to play it off.

"Good morning. Sorry for oversleeping." He grips the edge of the island to pull himself up from the floor, and he barely registers that he's been sleeping on the kitchen floor all night.

His bones and joints all protest to the sudden stretch as he makes his way to the coffee machine. He can't do this day, or this hangover, without coffee. He rubs his chest, his ring cold against his skin. He glances down for a moment to fiddle with it before turning his back to the coffee machine to face his guest, his friend.

"How was your night?"

She folds her arms across her chest as she moves his keys from the barstool to sit. "Do you know where you managed to lose your phone last night?"

He's silent because no, he's not sure where he left it.

"I'll give you one hint, Jiyong. It's in your car. Do you know where that is?"

And yeah, he can tell she's not pleased with him, though he's not sure why. "I left it at the club I was at last night, why?"

She scoffs and stands, eyes landing on the remnants of the glass he shattered last night. He feels like a child being scolded.

"I didn't figure you'd be mad at me for walking home instead of driving..."

She sighs. "I'm not mad you walked, Jiyong. I'm _pissed off_! You didn't just _walk home_! You walked, six miles! In the rain! _Without your phone_! I couldn't get ahold of you after you texted me! I've been out looking for you all night, Jiyong! Do you have any idea how _terrified_ I've been?'

He's not sure what to say as he fiddles with his ring. "I-"

"I didn't know if you were even _alive_! For all I knew, you could've been dead in some alley somewhere getting eaten by mice!"

Now it's his turn to scoff, even though he didn't mean to. "That's unlikely."

She stands, chair screeching back across the floor and he realizes very quickly that he's fucked up as Chaerin rounds the island.

"Is it? Because let's face it, Jiyong, you've never exactly had a sense of self-preservation." He's about to interrupt her, but she holds her hand up in between them to shush him, and he doesn't attempt to speak again. "I understand you've been through something horrible recently, and I've been trying to let you grieve and deal with things in the way that you do, but I'm worried about you. Truthfully, I'm afraid to leave you here alone."

"I'm an adult, I can take care of myself."

"Are you sure you can, Jiyong? Because I'm not. You're not sleeping, when you do it's apparently on the kitchen floor. I haven't seen you eat anything in days. You're drinking again, you're walking _six miles_ home in the rain from the clubs... And don't even get me started on everything else you've been doing."

And now he's getting mad because she's talking down to him and they both know it. They know it's deliberate. They also know that this isn't how they work. It never has been, and things like this do the opposite of helping him and that's something else they both knew all too well.

"What I do in my spare time isn't any of your business, Chaerin."

When her eyes widen and she shakes her head, walking back around the island, he's prepared for her to yell. He's prepared for screaming, crying, maybe even to get hit... But for a long time, too long of a time, she says nothing. She just stares blankly at the counter separating them.

"Putting yourself through hell won't bring them back, Jiyong. It'll only take you down with them."

With that, she puts her bag back over her shoulder and leaves without another word.

"Why would she say something like that? She just made it pretty clear that he's incredibly fucking fragile right now." Daesung snaps from where he sits on the island.

"When did you start cursing, Daesung?" Seunghyun asks with a raise of the brow.

"Probably when I died, maybe." He's sarcastic and angry and it's a side of Daesung that never used to show itself, but there was nothing holding him back now.

"Will the two of you stop fucking bickering?" Youngbae snaps. And it's strange because it's the first thing they've heard him say in two days.

"Hyung..."

"No, if I would have known my afterlife would have been listening to the two of you bicker forever, I..." He stops himself before saying something truly mean and Seungri turns away to hide the beginning of a smile. "I'm sorry, but can you just cut it out for a while?"

Daesung nods as he fiddles with his fingers. "Hyung's right. We have more pressing things to worry about."

And he's not wrong and they all know it. They know it the second that previously silent Jiyong coughs out a sob as he leans against the counter, face in his hands.

No amount of seeing Jiyong this way will ever prepare them for seeing it again. The amount of fucking _pain_ they feel coming from him at all times doesn't ever prepare them for the dam to break the second Jiyong knows he's alone. All of their prenotions about their friend were crushed the instant he began to curl into himself and cry.

Now that they weren't around there was nothing for him to hide from him. They wonder how he managed to hide it from them all the time, just how deeply emotional he was all the time. They saw it now, emotions they never saw from him when they were alive. If they did see them, it was only the beginning whisps of the emotion, and then it was gone. One way or another.

"Why did he do that to us?" Daesung speaks again, a growing tightness in his throat he didn't know how to hide. He watched Jiyong's shoulders shake as he cried to himself, clutching desperately at his own chest, smacking it lightly every now and then. "And why does he do that?"

There were a couple of long beats of silence, broken only by Jiyong.

"Because it's what I used to do... When he got close to having a panic attack." Youngbae sighs, getting closer to Jiyong. He wants to reach out. He wants to comb his fingers through Jiyong's hair and he wants to tell him it'll all be okay. But he can't. Truly, he doesn't know if Jiyong will ever be okay again. "He had his first-ever panic attack with me when we were younger. And I don't know why I did it, I just know that I did and that it stuck... It's hurtful to know it stuck with him so much that he does it in my place."

Jiyong takes a shuddering breath and suddenly darts from the kitchen. Seunghyun is the first to follow, the others right on his non-existent heels. They watch, helpless, as Jiyong digs into his bedside drawer and fishes out the bottle of pills with Seunghyun's name printed on the side. It's almost empty, and they wonder how many he's taken when they haven't been looking.

They look to Seungri. He would know, Seungri knows everything now. "Too many." Is all he gives them.

In Jiyong's other shaking hand is an item they've become too familiar with- the scalpel he stole from the hospital. It seems like it was so long ago now but it wasn't. It had been maybe a week, and now Jiyong was on the edge.

He sits on the edge of his bed, still crying but less now- just a couple of stray tears every few moments. "Maybe... Maybe it's easier to die... than be forgiven..."

He's whispered so low, they barely catch it, but when they do Youngbae is springing into action, though there's only so much he can do. As Jiyong pours the pills into his hand, Daesung is quick to swipe at them. Several of the pills clatter onto the floor and Jiyong curses and leans to lift them. Youngbae sighs, because he doesn't want to do this, but he has to, he reminds himself.

With the help of Seunghyun, he and Youngbae both attempt to press on Jiyong's shoulder. He's been healing, sure, but the pain seems to register with Jiyong, who instantly draws back from the pills on the floor in pain. "Fuck!"

Jiyong abandons his current idea, the pain simply too much to bear as he clutches his shoulder and makes his way to the bathroom to shower. The hot water washes over him, and very slowly begins to dull the ache. The doctor prescribed him painkillers, but after the first night with them, he just sat them on the counter and left them there to collect dust. He felt like the pain was necessary... like he deserved it.

He decides that right now, he's done with sitting around and crying. He knows it's only been a week but he can't stay this way forever. They would want him to move on. They'd want him happy, right?

Of course they would. They were his best friends, and sometimes, more. They wouldn't want him to suffer this way. He just hopes they're happy in whatever life comes after this one.

After his shower, he ignores the way he thinks he sees Youngbae in the mirror again. He swipes his hand over the fogged glass and the image is gone from his mirror and his mind all at once and he's glad. If he never sees Youngbae again it'll be too soon.

Using G-Dragon as a front to hide himself and his true feelings probably wasn't good, but it's not anything he isn't immensely used to at this point in time. What's a little more silent suffering?

He knows that deep down he'd give anything to see Youngbae again. To see any of them really, even if it's just to remove his final memories of them all from his mind. He wants to remember them warm and alive and happy, not as lifeless corpses on autopsy tables.

They deserve more than that. Deserve better.

His phone chimes at five am on the dot and the notifications begin to roll in.

He watches the screen for just a moment before sighing and instead of ignoring it, he opts to just turn his phone off completely. He needs to come out of this as a different person than he is today. He can't just be Kwon Jiyong right now, because he's already lost everything.

He sits his phone down on the counter as it powers off, and watches as the background photo of him and his friends fades away into the dark nothingness of sleep.


	14. Chapter 13 // "I can draw your face in my mind."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

He pulls his jacket tighter around him as he steps out of the car. The airport is packed but easily manageable, he knows where he needs to be. He carefully readjusts his face mask and hat as he makes his way to the gate.

He sees her hair first, and he suppresses a smile behind his mask as he approaches her. She turns just before he reaches her and he lets out a sigh of relief as a smile plays on her lips.

It's always been like her sixth sense, knowing when Jiyong was nearby. It helped them to stay connected in large spaces they were visiting together. It's how she never lost him in a club or an airport. It's gotten him out and kept him out of trouble many a time before now.

"I didn't expect to see you here." She says softly.

He wants to tell her that he debated not coming. He wants to tell her that everything inside of him told him to stay home, and let them part their ways as they were. He wants to tell her that he had a panic attack just based on the thought of letting her get on a plane without him, their last conversation being left as an argument. He wants to tell her that the idea of letting her go and leaving things like that- leaving things like he'd left them with Seungri- made him wail and shake while he hurried to get dressed.

Instead, he shrugs, trying to come off as nonchalant as humanly possible.

_'I couldn't let you leave without seeing you again. I couldn't let you go without apologizing or making sure you don't hate me. I couldn't let you get on that plane before I gave you another hug. I couldn't let you, not without making sure you know I love you. Because if you get on that plane and something happens and you never come back, I want to be sure we left on good terms.'_

"I couldn't break tradition." Is what he says, instead. It seems to be enough for her because her smile gets wider as she comes closer to him.

She wraps her arms around his neck, and he hugs her back without hesitation. "After this morning, I didn't think you'd come."

_'I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you after your plane took off and there being nothing I could do about it. The simple thought of you and Seungri being the same age, and him already being gone, was enough to bring me to tears over my cup of coffee this morning. The thought of losing all of them, and then losing you too almost put me over the edge of my own sanity this morning.'_

He breathes out against her neck. "You know I wouldn't do that."

She pulls back, and there's something that flashes in her eyes that he just can't place. It's gone as quickly as he's noticed it. "I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you came. It felt wrong leaving like that this morning, I... I had no right."

He shakes his head quickly and takes her hands into his own. "No you don't understand," he whispers. "You had every right and then some. It was stupid of me to go out like that and not make sure I had my phone with me. And you had every right to be worried, and even more right to be angry with me. I worried you and I deserved it."

He bows his head. "And I... I want to tell you that it will never happen again, but I can't promise you that, but I... I can tell you, with the most honesty, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for my actions and I'm so, so fucking sorry, for the way I spoke to you this morning. I was out of line."

She removes his hat and tucks it under her arm, freeing her hand up to run her fingers through his unruly blonde hair. "I'm sorry for what I said, too. It was wrong of me to throw that in your face."

_"Putting yourself through hell won't bring them back, Jiyong. It'll only take you down with them."_

"But you were right. I can't do reckless things and expect them to come back... And I have too much to do to try and follow in their shoes."

She's silent, and he hates it. He knows she's just thinking but he's not prepared for anything she might come up with to say. He fiddles with her fingers, with her rings instead of his own. She doesn't mind. She never has. He's always been like this with her- this different kind of vulnerable that he's only ever been with her.

Sure, he was vulnerable with Youngbae, once, but he was never like that with anyone else again. Chaerin knew that on the inside, Jiyong had never been anything but soft. He'd been too small, too fragile, too emotional, and he was looked down on for it. He was different and it was bad until he built up his walls and his new persona to hide it.

She always told him that no matter who he decided he wanted to be on the outside, Jiyong or G-Dragon, open or closed, she would be there. He knew she wouldn't lie to him like that. She was his best friend, now his only friend. She would never betray him. She'd never leave him.

Until her flight's last call was announced over the intercom and she carefully settled his hat back onto his head. She brushes his cheek with a smile before giving him one last hug and turning on her way.

She leaves him with nothing more than a perfect parallel of the way she left him just this morning.

Daesung fiddles with Seunghyun's sleeve as they followed behind Seungri and Youngbae. The silence between the four of them was almost eerily unsettling, except for the fact that they were all following behind Jiyong, who was equally as quiet.

The longer they followed Jiyong without him making any kind of noise, the more worried they grew. Normally, it was impossible to get Kwon Jiyong to _stop_ making noise, but now it seemed like nothing could get him to start.

When his favorite song came on the radio in the car and he turned the radio off entirely, it was pretty clear that something was wrong. Well, more wrong than usual.

"Jiyongi, talk to me..." Youngbae mutters from the passenger's seat to no avail. Met with silence, Youngbae curses and the sound makes Seungri hang his head. They've had this conversation. It was close to impossible to talk to the living. On the rare occasion that it could be achieved, it took so much reserved energy that that'd be unable to do anything else for however long it took to recover.

_"Why is it some days we can talk to him, and other days we're invisible?" Youngbae barked, standing far too close to Seungri to be comfortable._

_"It's because you _are_ invisible," Seungri had said cooly._

_Daesung quickly jumped between them, which left him practically sitting on Seungri's leg, to catch the throw from Youngbae. He was sure it wouldn't have had much impact on Seungri, given he'd already explained he wasn't the same as they were._

_"It's fine, Dae. He couldn't hit me if he wanted to. No matter how much energy he put into it."_

_Slowly, holding perfect eye contact with Youngbae, Daesung retreated from between them._

_"Just please, explain it to me. How does it work?"_

_Seungri doesn't sigh, he doesn't complain. He simply looks up at Youngbae and begins to explain, as best as he can. "You're dead. Everything you do takes energy. All the time you spend talking to Jiyong? That takes up more energy than you realize, but less than it could. It takes less because you don't have enough energy stored away to make him hear you. Moving things takes more than that because they're physical and you aren't."_

_Youngbae nodded along. It was information that they all needed to know. Better late than never, they supposed._

_"But, you can move things, and he can hear you?" Seunghyun asked from where he sat on the floor._

_Seungri nodded, now turning his attention from Youngbae's cold eyes. "Yes, but only if I wanted him to."_

_Daesung, ever the eager participant, joins in. "Because you're not a ghost."_

_"I'm an angel, right."_

_Youngbae suspiciously scratches his slit eyebrow with his middle finger. "Yeah, rub it in why don't you."_

_Seungri laughs, and it's impossible not to follow. It's like nothing ever happened to them. It's like they were all just bullshitting at the club while Jiyong is busy with his flavor of the week._

_Once the laughter finally dies down, Youngbae speaks again. "Okay, so it's possible to use more energy than we have, right?" Met with a nod, he speaks again. "What happens if we use more energy than we have, then? Does it go through to him or are we just talking to hear ourselves talk?"_

_"No. If you're over expelling yourself, he'll still hear you, but that kind of thing has consequences..."_

_Before Seungri is even able to finish speaking, Youngbae is cutting him off, determined to know more. "Like what?"_

_"Depends on how far you overdo it. If it's only a little, the most that'll happen is you'll get dizzy, maybe get a headache." Daesung nods to agree, he's had that happen twice already. "If it's a little more, say... Your max amount of energy and then another half... You'll start phasing."_

_Seunghyun leans forward, ever the theorist. "Phasing?"_

_Seungri leans forward to match the energy in the room, ever the slut for attention. He holds his hand in between them, and they watch as his hand begins to flicker like an old television. "Yeah. At this point, you should definitely stop whatever it is you're doing. You'll get tired, and you'll either have to stop or force yourself through it."_

_Youngbae bites his knuckle, lightly, the way he's known Jiyong to do when he gets nervous and Youngbae's hands just happen to be there. "If you force yourself through it?"_

_Seungri seems like he doesn't want to answer, but the way Youngbae steps closer, easily towering over Seungri in his sitting position, makes it clear he's not taking Seungri's silence for an answer. "If... If you did that, you'd be using twice as much energy, maybe even more... This is where you phase... Completely."_

_"How long does it take to recover from that?"_

_"Youngbae, you can't be serious," Daesung scoffs. "Aren't you listening? We have limits, just like we did when we were alive."_

_"How long?" Youngbae barks again._

_Seungri swallows. "Nobody knows. Not even me. It's different for every spirit that tries. Some take minutes to come back, others can take days, weeks even... Whatever you're thinking about doing, it's not going to be worth it."_

_Seunghyun looks down at his hands, splaying his fingers out on the dirty club flooring. "Why does it seem like each of us has more difficulty communicating with him than someone else? Like... I've spoken to him twice... I've moved things, physically. He's felt Daesung touching him. Youngbae and I have both been able to touch him... But by himself, it doesn't seem like Youngbae can get through to him, and by myself, I find it hard too... So why does it seem like Daesung isn't having the same problems as us?"_

_"That one's also pretty easy to explain. It all has to do with how you die. For example, every group has an angel, in this case, that's me. Even if the group is only two people, the first of them to die becomes the angel that leads the rest of the group to the afterlife."_

_"You died first, so you're the angel. That's easy." Seunghyun nods._

_"Past the first to die, it only has to do with how quickly you died, and how hard you fought."_

_Then it seems to click between them all, but Seungri keeps speaking. "For instance, Daesung's death was instant. That means he didn't expel energy fighting to stay alive, so he has the easiest time using his energy. Seunghyun fought, and then gave in and Youngbae..."_

_"Fought until the last breath." Daesung breathes out. He feels like he finally knows everything there is to know._

He'd been wrong of course, but it didn't matter. What mattered right now was Jiyong. They all began to see that Jiyong was all that ever mattered, to begin with. To them anyway.

Finally feeling bad for the struggle Youngbae has found himself in, Daesung reaches forward and puts his hand on Jiyong's shoulder.

Jiyong jumps at the sudden weight on his shoulder and looks back, and Daesung is sure they hold eye contact for just a split second before Jiyong's eyes make their way back to the road just in time for him to swerve back into his own lane and out of the oncoming traffic.

Jiyong pulls the car over and throws it into park before putting his head on the steering wheel.

His shoulders shake as he sobs, because he's convinced that Daesung just saved his life.


	15. Chapter 14 // "It's a cycle of girls and mistakes."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we're on a roll, don't stop now

His heart hammered so violently in his chest, he could feel it all over. His pulse jumped out in violent thrusts against his skin. It beat so hard, so quick, so loud, he thought that it might explode then and there. He feared that if it did he'd just be a corpse, rotting away with a hole in its chest and for a moment he thought it might be fitting if he were to go out that way.

The panic he felt building inside of him began teetering from uncomfortable into intolerable in record time. In an effort to put the panic back in its place before it got too far out-of-hand, he reached into his inner jacket pocket. He managed to produce more pills than he probably should have and took them dry and without a second thought.

Wiping away any remnants of tears from his face, he reaches his still shaking hands back into his pocket for his cigarettes. His hands shook so badly that he struggled to light one as he barely managed to stifle another sob. After three tries he managed to pull in a deep drag, only to let it back out in a breath that shook as badly as his hands did.

Throwing his hat into the passenger's seat, he combed his fingers through his hair and put his head back. "Fuck... Not today, please..." He begged, to no one in particular. Blinking back more tears, he smacked himself on the chest. He would pause in between, just to feel the way his heart hit back at him, and then he would do it again.

He kept it up, smacking now and again through two cigarettes and one smack to the steering wheel, until he managed to get it under control.

Once he managed to finally get his heart and breathing under control, he stopped giving a fuck about the shaking in his hands as he pulled his phone from the console. He knew it was stupid, but if it worked then he didn't care because he needed _something_ to help him power through this hell.

It was easy to open up his text messages, and it was easy to tap on Daesung's contact in the middle of the screen, and it was easy to type his message and it was easy to press send... What wasn't easy was waiting for the reply that would never come.

He dropped his phone straight up on the kitchen island, his message to Daesung still sitting unread on the screen. He didn't know what to do.

_'Hey Dae, I know it's a really weird time right now but... I swear to God I just saw you in the backseat of my car and I think you saved my life... But it couldn't have been you, right? I'm trying to come to terms with you being gone. It's really really hard for me to think about you being gone especially, because. There was nothing to it. With the others, even Seungri, I had a chance. I had a moment. In a way, I got to say goodbye... But not to you. I wake up every day hoping that the hospital made a mistake and that the body we buried wasn't you... I hope you'll call me, awake from some coma in another hospital and tell me that you're fine... I want you to be alive so I don't have to go through this hell alone, but I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone else... I'm sorry I didn't get to say... I'm sorry about what happened to you. To all of you. You all had so much more to live for. I'm sorry._

He knew a response would never come because the hospital was right. The hospital was right and they buried Daesung and there was no way that less than an hour ago he'd seen Daesung sitting in the back seat of his car. There's no way Daesung touched him on the shoulder and shocked him back to reality just in time to miss a collision that definitely would have killed him.

"I can't do this..." He called out to the empty house around him. "I don't know what else to do, but I can't do this..."

He can't sit here in this empty house. He can't stay in the place he used to keep all of his friends on extra rough weekends or house them after too drunk, too late nights out. He can't sit here with his eyes closed just because everywhere he looks he's reminded of them, and something they did and something that happened. He can't. He just can't.

He thinks, after a shower, he'll be able to make a better decision about what to do. He leaves his phone and keys on the island as he stalks off across the house.

Seunghyun isn't sure what to do as he watches Daesung's watery eyes flit across Jiyong's phone screen for the tenth time since they made it back to the house. He watches as the younger man swipes his hand across his face in a bid to rid himself of the stray tears on his cheeks. He couldn't just leave Daesung to cry, he knew, so he reached out and pulled Daesung close. It was so natural for Daesung to curl into Seunghyun's chest and cry. It wasn't like this had happened a lot, but it definitely happened a lot more than Daesung would ever care to admit.

The two were only an inch apart in height, but somehow it was easy for Seunghyun to fold Daesung into him. He fit the boy right against his chest and let him cry there. He shook with such violence, it made Seunghyun shake too, but he wasn't mad. He could never be mad at Daesung. They were too close for that.

"I'm s-sorry I always cry on you h-hyung!" Daesung sobbed, with such an intensity Seunghyun felt it tugging at his heart.

"It's only fair that you cry on me, with how much I do the same to you."

Sunghyun shushed Daesung's further apologies, stating simply that there was nothing to be sorry for.

"I'm going to make him worse!" He sobbed again, clutching tighter onto Seunghyun's jacket. "I didn't think he'd see me, but he wasn't paying attention! I didn't know what to do!"

"Shh... You didn't do anything wrong, Dae. You saved his life... Why are you so sad?"

Daesung can't do anything but cry for a very long moment, but when he pulls away the sadness in his eyes tears its way into Seunghyun's chest. "Because he saw me. He's never going to get better if he thinks we're still here."

Seunghyun sighs as he plays with Daesung's overly long hair. The younger leans into his touch and he tries not to smile. "You've always been to mature, you know? Even in death, you're trying to take the responsibility for things that aren't your fault."

They look up as Jiyong steps into the room, fresh out of the shower, dressed only in a towel. Daesung probably would've broken his neck with how quickly he turned to look at where Youngbae stood by the front windows. Even Seungri, as oblivious as he can be doesn't miss the way Youngbae's eyes follow a single drop of water that slides down Jiyong's chest. When it's obvious he's been caught staring, he blushes but doesn't look away, instead just looking overly fond.

Daesung finally shifts away from his hyung, embarrassed to be caught crying yet again. Seunghyun says nothing else about it.

He watches as Daesung shakes his head and laughs. "Here I am, trying to hide the fact that I've been crying from Jiyong-hyung... It's like nothing ever happened."

Seungri, who'd been sitting in silence next to the stove, looks up from where he'd been picking at his nails. "He's only come out of the shower because he heard you."

Daesung looks up to Seungri, who isn't even looking in his direction anymore, and then back to Jiyong, whose eyes are scanning all around the room. There's still soap in his hair, and it dawns on them rather suddenly that Seungri was right. After finding nothing, Jiyong takes his phone from the island and retreats back in the direction of the bathroom with a shake of his head.

Suddenly in front of Seungri, with such speed and intensity even Seungri himself didn't see coming, Daesung hisses, "What do you mean he heard me?"

Blinking, Seungri waits to finally speak. "You were crying, and that uses a lot of energy, Daesung... It's not strange that the output of so much of it happened to come through to Jiyong."

"I'm swearing to you, Rin, I heard him. I heard him clear as fucking day like he was standing in my goddamn kitchen!" He sighs, combing a finger through his hair while he rinses the soap from it. "I'm positive it was him."

"I'm not sure you can definitively say, even if he was alive-which he isn't- that it was Dae just by the crying you heard, can you?"

Actually offended, Jiyong huffs. "I can. I know Daesung's cry anywhere."

Nearing the door when his phone rang, he saw a familiar name and hesitated to answer. He'd been trying not to speak to her for as long as he could help it, but if she was calling now, it seemed he didn't have much of a choice.

"H-Hello?" He swallowed, emotions threatening to pull him over the edge before he even heard what she called for.

"Hello, Jiyong... I know it's been a while already, but I wanted to let you know that while we've been figuring Youngbae's will out, he left some things to you."

Jiyong swallows the lump in his throat. "Me? Why me?"

There's silence on the other end before she speaks again, and he swears he can hear her smiling. "You know why, Jiyong. If you don't want to come over here for your things, that's alright, I can have them sent to you. But we would enjoy seeing you."

His hand trembles where it's placed against the wood of the front door. "I... I don't think I can... I've never... I've never been there without him, and I don't think I'd like to start now... I-If that's alright."

"You know it's not a problem, my dear... I know it might be just as hard, if not harder for you to deal with... I'll have your things sent over, and they should be in within the week, okay?"

He nodded, though she couldn't see him and after a moment they said their goodbyes. He debated just smashing his phone against the door, but since this was already his second phone this year, he restrained himself.

Leaning his head against the door, he blinked back tears that threatened to spill over. "I'm so fucking tired of crying..."

The music was already so loud for how early it was, but he wasn't exactly mad. If the deafening sounds and thump of the bass couldn't keep him out of his thoughts for the time he was here, then he didn't know what else would.

He's still on his first drink, which is fine since it's not even noon yet. He's hearing familiar voices, but he doesn't want to look. When he does it's like a riot inside of him. He can feel the coldness of ice seeping into his veins and the warmth of anger in his palms.

At a table not far away, sit Seungri's old friends. He hasn't seen them since Seungri's funeral, and everything inside of him was hoping that he'd never have to see them again. He's hoping that they don't see him, but his hopes are crushed the moment he makes eye contact with one of them and watches the realization flicker across their features.

He looks away though he knows it's too late the second someone appears next to him. "You're Jiyong, right?"

He gives a slight nod as he sips from his glass.

"I'm sorry for what happened, before... It definitely shouldn't have gone down like that. Especially cause we heard so much about you from S... From him."

He hesitates as he puts his glass down. Turning to the stranger, he sighs. "I'm sorry too. I was out of line... It was just a freak accident. Couldn't have been your fault."

"Still... We're sorry for your loss, er... Loss-es."

He nods a little. "You heard about that, huh?"

The man runs his hand through his hair. "It's all over the news. I'm sorry about your friends. We all are."

"Appreciate it."

There are a couple of long beats of silence before this man, Seungri's friend, bothers speaking again. "You wanna come have a round with us?"

He hesitates and looks over his shoulder at the empty stool beside him. He looks for comfort, or direction, in the place where Youngbae normally was. Finding nothing just solidified the decision for him.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

Youngbae watched Seungri with worried eyes. It wasn't hard to tell that somewhere inside of Seungri he was feeling things he probably hadn't felt in a long time as his eyes landed on the men that used to be his friends. Youngbae couldn't miss the way Seungri's hands hovered out near them like he wanted to pat them on the back and bullshit with them like always.

His hands trembled and his chest was rising and falling quickly. Youngbae, feeling even more protective than he used to, walks up and puts his hands on the maknae's shoulders. It seems to be the only thing that Seungri needs to open up.

"This is the first time I've seen them... Hyung, I-I never got to..."

It seems that Angels aren't immune to hurt or sadness, it becomes clear, as Seungri lets out a sob that makes his ears ring and hurts Youngbae so badly he thinks he might be sick. Before Youngbae can even say anything, he feels an actual shock in his hands where they're connected to Seungri, and he jumps backward, the maknae following quickly behind.

Seungri mumbles an excuse before Youngbae blinks and Seungri is suddenly gone. Youngbae thinks for a moment that he imagined the whole thing until Daesung is jogging up to him with wide eyes.

"What the hell was that sound?" He pants, Seunghyun behind him.

"What do you mean?"

"That loud ringing, didn't you hear it?" Seunghyun asks, bewildered. Youngbae nods.

"Seungri was crying... I'm guessing that's not a thing Angels do often."

Both of the other boys glance at one another, then back to Youngbae. "What do we do while he's gone?"

Shrugging, Youbgbae sits on the empty stool next to Jiyong. "There's not much we _can_ do without him... I think we're just meant to stay here and..." He swallows. "And look after Jiyong."

Seunghyun seems to understand as he makes himself at home on the other side of the bar from them. Daesung takes it upon himself to sit on it.

Daesung can't take his eyes off of Seungri's old friends. "I wish I could have known them better, y'know? Given them the chance they deserved."

Youngbae watches, amusement in his eyes as Jiyong keeps glancing over his shoulder at them. Youngbae leans in closer. "Talk to them. It's obvious that you want to, so just do it, Jiyongi."

Jiyong sips from his glass, and if it were under any other circumstances Youngbae would think Jiyong was ignoring him again.

Daesung gets tired of watching them all look back-and-forth at one another and launches himself off of the bar and towards Seungri's friends. He circles the table once, before deciding to pick which one to speak to.

He finally lands on the one that they all caught Jiyong beating the everloving shit out of. "Get up and talk to him... You're here for the same reason."

It's clear the words get through to him because just moments later, he gets up and approaches Jiyong. Youngbae watches as they begin to talk, and he also watches as Jiyong looks over his shoulder at him. He felt the sparks that he used to deny as he held Jiyong's eye.

Four hours with these guys felt like it'd been days by the time they decide to leave the club together. He's not sure what it is, but for the first time in days, he doesn't feel alone anymore.

Unlike the last time he'd met them, he finally had names to put to their faces. It was almost easy to be around them as they left the club. Without knowing where they wanted to go, they decided to just walk until they found somewhere. Jiyong settled his sunglasses over his eyes and prayed to God he would blend in.

James, whose quick wit and easygoing nature made Jiyong feel like Daesung had never left as they walked shoulder-to-shoulder in the middle of the group. Brennan, with tan skin and just enough of the same mannerisms as Youngbae to make Jiyong's heart hurt, walked just ahead of them next to Alastor. He was tall and quiet and reminded him of the long nights he spent suffering Seunghyun's prolonged silences.

On the other side of Alastor, was Jaehwan. Actually from Daegu, fast and fiery and reminded Jiyong all too much of Seungri himself, bounced along as he and Brennan talked as though Alastor wasn't even there.

It was like a dream, and if he squinted hard enough he could almost see his friends in these men.

They ended up inside of a club much like the one they just left, but it didn't matter to them as they sat and ordered a round of drinks.

The longer they spoke, the more Jiyong realized that they all had a lot more in common than he used to think. They had the same tastes, except maybe the obvious. In the middle of talking about anything, and everything that wasn't the recent tragedies in their lives, James looks up and makes eye contact with a group of girls passing by.

Cooly, he slides from his chair and walks up to greet one of the girls. After a moment he invites the girls to sit with them, offering they can put a couple of tables together for all of them to fit.

She glances at her friends and then accepts, but once the tables are together, there are one too many girls for the chairs they have. Jiyong stands to offer his chair to her, offering to crouch instead. She shakes her head and pushes him back down into his seat, instead opting to make herself at home on his lap.

Any other time, he'd be a little uncomfortable. With the amount of alcohol already filling his veins though, he finds he doesn't mind her or the warmth she brings to his skin when she puts his hand on one of her exposed thighs. She smirks when his cheeks turn colors and sips from her new drink. Something inside of him begins to panic that she might know who he is, but it becomes clear after a while that she doesn't, which he thanks God for.

After what he thinks is only two more drinks, but turns out to be more like six, James clears his throat. His eyes are now trained on the girl on Jiyong's lap, her name still unknown to him. "So uh, my pal Jiyong here has kinda been through a lot recently, and we've been trying to take his mind off of it today."

She turns to look down at him and through his sunglasses, they manage to make eye contact. Her brow raises and she bites her lip to hide a smirk. He doesn't notice until it's a little late that she's unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

Before he knows it, they're making out in the bathroom. It's more teeth and tongue than anything but he finds that he doesn't mind. He doesn't seem to mind the way she tugs on the ends of his hair as he kisses her neck. He doesn't mind the way she moans his name as he gets his hand between her thighs. He doesn't mind that he'll never be with this girl again after this.

He doesn't mind how great her ass looks when she pulls her skirt up to her waist, and he really doesn't mind the tiny underwear she's wearing as she kicks them off and stuffs them in his pocket. He doesn't mind having to cover her mouth as he fucks her against the wall of the dirty club bathroom stall they're in. He doesn't mind the way her grip tightens on his wrist or the way she bites into his hand as she comes around him. He doesn't mind the whine of protest she makes as he pulls out of her once he's filled his condom.

He doesn't mind the way she composes herself, kisses him on the cheek, and leaves either. He doesn't mind the way that once he's cleaned and composed himself, he walks back to their table to find all the girls have gone. He doesn't mind the way his new friends, no... Not friends... Acquaintances? Yes, that. He doesn't mind the way his new acquaintances are waiting for him with a smile and another glass of whatever alcoholic beverage they chose for him in his absence.

For the first day, he doesn't mind the weight on his chest has left him, and instead, settled on his shoulders. It comes and goes so often it's like someone is just resting their hands there, but he doesn't bring himself to look.

For the first day, he doesn't mind being alone.


	16. Chapter 15 // "I tried to be fine, tried to change the subject."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> took a short break, now I'm back, also angst

_Cold._

_Cold, wet. Darkness._

_Silence._

_Heavy breathing; the only sound for what seemed like miles. He ran, unsure of how far or how long._

_He ran until his legs couldn't take him any farther, and he collapsed on the cold, wet pavement below him. Maybe, he thought, maybe he lost the thing chasing him. Maybe he'd lost that horrible creature back there in the dark. Maybe it was finally done chasing him._

_If he never sees it again, it'll be too soon. He'll see those eyes in his nightmares for as long as he lives, he's sure._

_Finding some of the strength he lost had returned to his legs, he lifted himself from the ground. As he stands, he sees feet not too far ahead of him, and as he rises farther, so does his gaze until he's locked eyes with the creature from before._

_The dark eyes he held contact with, held nothing but hatred and pain. There was nothing left of the once familiar soul that used to reside behind them, and instead just..._

_Cold, wet, darkness._

_The voice, disconnected, evil... Empty. "Why did you run, Jiyong?"_

_He shakes his head, hands in front of him in defense as he slowly backed away, as he tries to create distance between them. "I don't know why I ran... But you're not real."_

_Dark, evil laughter echoes in the space between them, blood pours from the mouth. The sound makes Jiyong's chest hurt. "I _am_ real, Jiyong. I'm just as real as you are."_

_He shakes his head again, backing up farther. "You're _not_ real, you're not. I shouldn't even be speaking to you..."_

_"But you are, because I'm real, Jiyong. I'm real and you know it. You have to, or you wouldn't be speaking to me."_

_Jiyong turns and begins walking back the way he came, trying to ignore the figure behind him... Until it's in front of him again. "Why are you walking away from me, Jiyong?!"_

_Unable to take this torture anymore, Jiyong sobs and it echoes around them. "Because you're _dead_ Youngbae! You're dead and I watched you die!"_

_Youngbae seems to finally find this acceptable, as he smirks and steps even closer. "Soon, you will be too." He laughs, just before touching Jiyong on the chest._

Jolting upright in bed, he screams into his pitch-black bedroom. The rain was loud against his windows, and the pain in his chest was dull enough he wonders if he's imagined it. He knows he must have, if his nightmare was anything to go off of. He had been asleep, none of it had been real.

He rolls over and grabs his phone from the empty right side of the bed. He knows he won't get an answer as he calls Youngbae's number, but he tries anyway. When it goes to Youngbae's voicemail, he closes his eyes as he listens to the voice he misses so much. Another tear rolls down his cheek and he can't help but smile, hanging up before he has to actually leave a message on the phone of a man that will never call him back.

When he pulls the phone from his face, he sighs at the time. Every day, he got less and less sleep, as now it was two in the morning. He doesn't even try to roll over and go back to sleep this time. Sitting up in bed, he sighs before making his way to the living room. He drops himself on the couch as he turns the television on.

He avoids looking into the kitchen, the memory of what he saw in there still too strong. He plucks his pills from the coffee table and pops a couple into his mouth before getting comfortable. He covers himself with the blanket from the back of the couch, the smell of Daesung's cologne still strong on the fabric as he closes his eyes.

Daesung sits on the edge of the coffee table, not far from Jiyong, head in his hands. "I'm so fucking tired of this... I'm fucking tired of seeing him this way."

Seunghyun sighs, but says nothing as Youngbae sits on the couch next to a now-sleeping Jiyong. Daesung continues. "Seungri's been gone for six days, for fuck's sake! He's the only one with any idea of what's going on, and he's still fucking gone, and I'm so fucking worried about Jiyong I don't know what else to do with myself!"

Jiyong begins to stir, and Youngbae lunges off of the couch and covers Daesung's mouth. Daesung gripped tightly onto Youngbae's wrist. They all knew that if they woke Jiyong now, he'd just be up until the point of exhaustion once again. Daesung squeezes his eyes closed as Youngbae waits for Jiyong to settle back down.

Once they're sure Jiyong will continue to sleep, Youngbae removes his hand from Daesung's mouth. Daesung stays silent as he holds his head in his hands. He can't believe himself now; the fact that he could've woken Jiyong while rambling on about how he needs his rest is rediculous.

Hours pass like minutes, but at seven o'clock on the dot, there was a knock at the door. Jiyong, who'd been fast-asleep, woke the moment he heard the noise and instantly rose to investigate. He ran his fingers through his hair as he pulled the door open before stopping in his tracks.

Youngbae's mother, and brother, stood before Jiyong will small smiles on their faces. He tried to wipe the shock from his face as she pulled him into a hug, but it was clear it didn't work when she spoke. "I figured we would bring it to you, instead."

Youngbae emerged from behind Jiyong, and he almost expected it to be a strong, heartfelt moment where he'd reunite with them, but it wasn't. This was the first time he was seeing them- really seeing them- since he'd died. He'd stolen glimpses of them at the funeral, but past that he tried not to look at them. He didn't want to see them in mourning.

He realized for the first time since he died, just how badly he missed them. He longed to reach out and hug them both to his chest, like he'd done so many times. Instead, he just watches as they walk past him and into Jiyong's home. He circles around his family, a smile on his face. "Mama... There's so much I wish I could tell her..."

He stands next to Jiyong, their shoulders brushing as he leans in closer to Jiyong's pierced ear. "If you can hear me... Tell her how much I loved her, and tell her I'm sorry I had to leave like that..."

As if on command, Jiyong gives Youngbae's mother a sad smile. "You know, he loved you so much... Both of you."

Youngbae can feel something in his heart, and for a long moment he's not sure what it is. He can't figure it out, until his mother speaks.

"He loved you too, you know... So much more than I think he ever knew how to say."

It's like her words unlocked something inside of him, because then he was absolutely sure that yes, he did love Jiyong, more than he ever said before. Both boys, separated by death, still seemed to be so in-sync with one another, that they both breathed out a sigh at the same time.

"Mama..." The pair sighed, Jiyong's eyes closing. Youngbae's breath moved Jiyong's hair and for a long moment, he hoped to god that Jiyong didn't notice.

When Jiyong opened his teary eyes, Youngbae felt something inside of him that just _hurt_. "I miss him so much... He's everywhere."

Youngbae's mother pulled Jiyong into her arms and let him cry into her shoulder. Hyunbae wrapped his arms around the pair and let them cry together.

This is the sole reason they decided to bring Youngbae's belongings themselves, rather than sending someone else. It was for Jiyong. She hadn't been lying when she said she expected this to be harder for Jiyong than her. She knew Hyunbae had lost a brother, and that she'd lost a son... But Jiyong had lost his best friend and his lover all at once.

"I-I wouldn't wish this pain on anybody." He cried to her, and all she could do was mess with the hair at the nape of his neck as she blinked away her own tears.

There were no words she could find to say in the moment, because the only words she could think of were ones that would console him, and she was sure he'd heard enough of that for the time being. She settled for silence as Jiyong cried to her for only the third time since she'd known him. Jiyong had always been small, and soft and fragile, but he didn't ever want anyone else to know that, not even his own mother.

She'd been the only one he'd cried to when his cat died when he was younger, and the only person he'd come to after his split with Youngbae, and now. She can't imagine he's let himself cry in front of anyone else, save maybe Chaerin- bless her heart.

Once Jiyong had finally calmed down a little while later, they got to finally moving the things Youngbae had left to him inside.

It was much more than Jiyong had originally thought. Clothes from GDYB, jewelry collected over the years, photo albums full of the two of them and their adventures, Youngbae's old car... The last three things left Jiyong a crying mess again: a copy of Youngbae's brand new album, a sealed letter, and the piano he'd owned his whole life and taught Jiyong piano on.

Jiyong refused to touch any of it, even long after Youngbae's family had finally left him with the final parting words of, "Thank you, for giving my son a chance."

He spent his time rearranging to put all of Youngbae's things where they belonged, instead. He put all of Youngbae's jewelry away in the same place as all of Youngbae's other accessories that'd migrated into his home over the years. He hung Youngbae's clothes and gingerly sat the photo albums on his nightstand.

He spent two hours cleaning and rearranging the living room to fit the piano against the wall opposite the windows. That's where it'd been when they'd lived together, after all. It didn't seem right to put it anywhere else now. He sat at the bench in silence, twirling Youngbae's album between his fingers.

The idea that this small package in his hands held all of Youngbae's final songs and thoughts was so heartbreaking to him. He sat it down where the sheet music would normally go and took a shaking breath before he began to open Youngbae's letter.

It dawned on him why the envelope was so thick once it was open, as there were probably a dozen sheets of paper _at least_.

He ran his thumb over the papers, finding his name scrawled at the top of nearly every page. Youngbae's familiar handwriting occupied the front and back of most pages, and it was becoming too much for him too quickly. He put the papers down on the piano and stalked off to the kitchen for a glass of water before returning.

Youngbae sat down next to Jiyong on the piano bench, like he'd done so many times before and watched as Jiyong trailed his fingers over the keys. He listens, with a smile, as Jiyong's fingers press into the gentle opening melody of Lies for just a few short seconds before stopping once again. A pained look flashed across Jiyong's face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

He watched as Jiyong took the first page from the stack of papers and held his non-existant breath as Jiyong read the first few words before putting the paper back down. He watched as Jiyong stood and paced, tugging at the ends of his hair as he went. Jiyong blinked back the start of new tears as he reached for his phone.

Youngbae didn't move from the bench as Jiyong laid down on the floor. It wasn't unusual for him to do so.

It wasn't unusual for Jiyong to play with the necklace laying against his chest either, but the tingling sensation in Youngbae's chest that came from the action was.

Jiyong listened as the phone rang, nearly too many times before Chaerin picked up on the other end. She sounded out of breath, but the music in the background cut out immediately after she greeted him. "Hey, Ji, what's up? Are you okay?"

"Rin, I... He left me so much... They just brought it over and I don't... I don't know what to do, he wrote me so much and I just- I can't..."

Her voice is soft on the other end of the line. "Hey, it's okay, take a deep breath. I have the weekend off, I'll be getting on a plane back tonight, and I'll be there in the morning. We'll read it together, okay? We can break out the wine? Yea?"

He nods though she can't see him. "That sounds nice."

"So here's the plan, okay? You clean up, make sure you take a shower, get something to eat and get some rest tonight, and I'll get breakfast in the morning before I come over, okay?"

"Thank you... I love you."

He can almost hear the smile in her voice. "I love you too, Jiyong."

He never managed to clean anything in his home, parts of the living room still sitting in random places on the floor. There were dishes still out of place from the dinner he never ate in varying rooms as he fell into bed at five-forty in the afternoon. The sunlight still shone through his bedroom windows as he covered his head with the blanket like a shield.

He's asleep before six, the events of the day pushed to the back of his mind.


	17. Chapter 16 // "Finally I realize I'm nothing without you."

Chaerin walked into Jiyong's house for the first time in a week at seven forty-six in the morning. Based just on the state of the home, she could create an estimate of Jiyong himself.

He was normally so calm, collected, and clean but the house right now was another being entirely. There were dishes in places they didn't belong and clothes unworn for god knows how long at this point. It was easy to see all the things Jiyong had moved in the night, and all the things he'd touched and the places he'd been and it was easy to see the things eating him up on the inside.

So she gathered them, the letters, the album, into her arms and made her way to the bedroom where the sleeping lump of Jiyong lay. She drew back the curtains to allow the morning sun to shine through as she pulls Jiyong's covers away from him. He stirs, and smiles, always happy to see her.

She urges him to eat what she brought him, and when he takes it they eat in silence.

Seunghyun and Daesung watch from the floor as Youngbae sits on the foot of Jiyong's bed. Chaerin and Jiyong have made themselves comfortable at the head, their breakfasts eaten and their coffee still hot. Chaerin grabs the first page, and Daesung asks his hyung if they need to leave.

Youngbae shakes his head no, because there's things in those pages they deserve to hear too.

"Okay, letter one opens with... "My darling, Jiyong. If you're reading this, it means that I'm gone, and I'm sorry to say if I am. I wrote these just in case I had things to say to you that I could never say, and I'm sorry I could never say them to you before now. I want to start off by letting you know, before anything else, that I have loved, and love you still, so much. Even if I'm gone, the only thing that has ever mattered-or ever will matter to me- is you."

Jiyong lets out a shaking breath as he sips his coffee. Chaerin continues.

"Right now, you're asleep next to me in our bed. You're wearing my clothes, and your hair is a mess like it always is, and you look spectacular, just like you always do. You take my breath away and you haven't even done anything... That's just the kind of man you are to me."

It's Chaerin's turn to take a drink. She's the one holding the paper, she's the one with the eyes that have traveled farther down the page. Her throat is getting tight over words she hasn't even spoken aloud yet. She's not ready to say them, and she knows Jiyong most likely won't be ready to hear them.

"No matter what I've done in the past, Kwon Jiyong, or in the future, I hope you can forgive me... I'm going to break your heart not too long from today... A couple of weeks, or months maybe, nobody knows for sure yet, but it has to be done... I've been given a choice, Jiyong. I've been asked to break up with you. I won't tell you who because I'm sure by now you'll know. I've been asked to hurt you in a way I can't even find imaginable and it hurts me to think about even now.

I've been asked to break up with you, and I will, because my other option would be far worse for you than this... If I don't find it within myself to hurt you, Jiyong... Someone else will do it. I have to break up with you soon, or else we're going to be exposed. To the government, to our families, and to the world. If I don't, I will be fired from the band, and the company, and so will you. And we will never work again. This secret that we've tried so hard to hide all of these years will be out there for the world to hear, and I know you're not ready for that... Neither am I, if I'm honest.

Let it be said that I am not ashamed of you, Kwon Jiyong, or what we have. But to have your relationship strapped down and dissected is an experiment I know you refuse to partake in. And I don't blame you for a second. I know that you'll put your walls up after me, and you may never let anyone inside ever again... But my goodbye to you isn't forever, it never will be, no matter what they do to me. They can never keep me from you. Physically, maybe, but my heart, my soul, will always belong to you, just like it always has.

I'm going to have to lie to you, because as much as it may hurt you, I think it'll hurt you less than the truth about our situation would. Everything I've ever done is for you, darling. To protect you, even though you think you don't need it. I know who you are, darling, on the inside... And the people out here would take everything you are and change it into something else entirely if they had the chance. They don't want us to be ourselves, they want us to be perfect, and we're not. We never have been."

Daesung watches Youngbae swallow, and he watches Jiyong bite back tears. He looks to Seunghyun, who clenches his jaw. There's something he wants to say, but he doesn't.

"I hope that when the time comes, I can find it within myself to tell you the truth, and I hope I can allow you to join me in this fight no matter how horrid it may be... But I'm selfish. So selfish when it comes to you, always. I don't have it in me to let you go, to set you free. I love you far too much to even stand the idea of being without you... To have you so close but still so far, and I dread the idea that you'll find someone else to take my place.

I don't like the idea of you being with someone else in the same way that you've been with me all of these years... But it's looking like you'll have to, and it's looking like I will be too. And I don't want to do that to you, truly. They want me to change and I must, I fear, to protect you... Everything I do is to protect you. I want you to move on from me, for your sake. I want you to move on so you don't hurt anymore. So you don't feel the dreadfully heavy aching in your heart and in your bones that I feel now thinking of the silence that comes in living a life without you.

I never want to live in a world without you, darling. And I never want you to live in a world without me either, but like I said before, I'm afraid if you're reading this letter, it's because you are, in fact, living in a world without me. I've left this letter to you in my will so that you might finally understand everything you couldn't understand while I was with you... While I was alive. I don't know where or when this letter will find you, but I hope that it finds you well. I hope you're well, Jiyong, wherever and whenever you are.

I hope this letter finds you, and you can forgive me. I hope you can forgive me for things that-as I'm writing this- I haven't even done yet. I hope you can forgive me for the things I do to you in my future, even if they've happened to you long in the past now. I hope you can see that everything I've done in my life up until this point, and the things I will do for the rest of my life, are for you. I hope you can see the things you've done to me. I hope you can see what you've gotten me through, as you read this. I hope you think back on this... Think back on me, often.

I know that wherever I am, Kwon Jiyong, I'll be thinking of you. I love you, truly and so very much... Yours in this life, and the next... Dong Youngbae, June 10th, 2012."

The silence in the room is almost enough to drive Daesung mad following the end of the first letter. Youngbae fiddled with his hands, jaw clenched the whole time. Jiyong seemed to be in a state of shock, if his blank staring at the hardwood meant anything.

Daesung crawled to sit at Jiyong's feet, like he'd done so many times over the years. "Breathe, hyung."

As if on command, Jiyong sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and slowly exhaled. He ran a hand through his own hair and took a drink from his cup before settling back down. "Another, please... They don't even have to be in order."

Chaerin bites her lip and slowly pulls the final letter from the back of the stack. The second she lays her eyes on it, she looks away, taking a long moment to compose herself before she begins reading from it.

"My darling. You must've known this was coming soon, based on my other letters. You've probably asked yourself why I've left you the things I've left you, and why I didn't leave them to anyone else... I think deep down you know why, now, but I'll tell you anyways... I hope you don't cry while you read this, but if I know you, I know you've been crying for a while already. And I'm sorry. I never liked seeing you cry.

Firstly, the clothes from GDYB... They're yours because all of our side projects were you. They were your dream, your art, and I was just your muse. Every detail of everything we did was so well planned out by you, I couldn't just let the things you put the most effort into be thrown away like they didn't matter. Because they do matter... And sure, maybe not all of the clothes are from GDYB, but they're clothes I wanted you to have. They're clothes I know you would've wanted anyways.

All of the jewelry was more of a side-note, really. There was no specially crafted list of what to give you, I only told them to give it all to you. Most of those pieces are things you've probably worn before anyways, so I don't see the point in giving those to someone else either. I did make sure Hyunbae and my mother each got their favorite pieces of mine, but that's it.

The photo albums... They hold much better times than what you're going through right now. Pre-debut, post... Our first date is in there somewhere. Pictures from that picnic we had in my car, our first ever show together... The boys are even in there in some places, and I hope that all of these photos you were a part of but never saw can help smooth over some of the hurt you're feeling.

Speaking of the picnic... My old car. I remember how in love with it you were when I first got it, and I couldn't stand the idea of anyone else driving it but you. Not after the things we went through in that car alone. It didn't feel right. I didn't want anyone else to have their first kiss in that car. I didn't want anyone else having a picnic so messy in the front seat that they'll be cleaning noodles out of it for days afterwards... I didn't want it going to anyone else but you.

And that leads me, aside from these letters, to the last two things I've left you... The piano. The one I taught you to play on so long ago. The same piano we..."

Chaerin's cheeks flush as she sips her coffee, and so do Jiyong's, so it's clear they both know what it says. Daesung, who doesn't want to miss a single word of this, is dying on the inside thanks to her omission. Youngbae promises him that he's not missing anything too terribly important.

"That's the piano we spent so many hours at. Hunched over, tired eyes, hands pained from writing all day, sometimes two days straight. We did some of our best work at that piano. Lies was born there, as were so many other songs... And speaking of songs, my last parting gift to you.

White Night. It goes public in a couple of days, but if Seunghyun's bad feeling is anything to go by, I don't think I'll be around to see it. Jiyong, my darling, my love... No matter what speculation will say, I want you to know first hand that the album is about you. It's always been about you... The third track, especially. You don't even have to listen to the rest of the album if you don't want to, just that one... White Night was my project and without knowing it, you were my muse. Always.

I always wanted to be there to show you, but I think it's better that I'm gone... Seunghyun and I had a feeling that this was coming for a while. You know Seunghyun's never wrong. If we were right, then I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your losses. I'm sorry we're all gone... If you've already gotten the things I've left to you, then the things from the others shouldn't be too far behind...

I'm sorry, Jiyong. I love you, so much. So much it hurts me... Yours in this life, and the next. Dong Youngbae, August 12, 2017."

Jiyong cried. He cried, and cried, inconsolable until he cried himself into a nap that Chaerin knew he needed. While he slept, she cleaned. It was the only thing she thought she could do for the time being. Things needed cleaned and in this moment Jiyong was in no position to do it, and she didn't mind... So she cleaned.

She cleaned until all of the dishes were washed and dried and put in their rightful places. She checked on Jiyong. Then she cleaned until all of his clothes were in the laundry basket and there was a load washing in the machine. She checked on Jiyong. Then she cleaned until the kitchen and bathroom were back to their regular, organized glory. She checked on Jiyong, and then cleaned some more.

Looking into Jiyong's fridge, she sighed at how bare it had become in just the week since she'd been here last. It wasn't full then by any means, but it wasn't completely empty like it was now. She makes her way back to Jiyong's room, passing by a mirror in the hall. She stops, staring into it. She's drawn in, and she can't figure out why, so she keeps walking.

Gently, she wakes Jiyong from his long nap and coaxes him into the shower. Pulling clean clothes from his closet, slipping in one of Youngbae's undershirts, she sighs. This isn't the first time she's been here to pull Jiyong out of a rut like this. She was the first person to know that he and Youngbae had ever even broken up in the first place. In similar fashion, she was the first one to get up and march up to Youngbae, a fire in her heart she didn't know she had, and curse him for whatever possessed him to break Jiyong's heart.

She helped Jiyong even now. She carefully put the clothes on the sink in the bathroom as he stepped out of the shower, and as he dried himself she helped him blow-dry his hair. She combed it as he dressed, and helped him with the light bit of makeup he'd decided on. She helped him find his mask and helped him put his earrings in.

She helped him find his keys and his wallet and his phone, and she helped him into his jacket that she'd finally picked up off of the floor. He thanks her, and though he's quiet about it, she knows he's being genuine about it. His phone rings for the first time in days, but he ignores it. She says nothing about it as they get into the car.

They glance at one another as he passes her the keys, and there's a silent kind of agreement between them. She starts the car and drives them off towards the grocery store.

Seunghyun stares out the back window of the car in silence. Daesung's getting nervous because Seunghyun hasn't spoken in such a long time. Daesung bites his lip. Seunghyun's never gone so long without talking to him before, he was beginning to think he'd done something wrong. He touches Seunghyun's arm, and he pulls away, so Daesung leaves it at that.

Youngbae's fist sits clenched on his leg during the drive, and sits the same in his pocket as they follow Jiyong and Chaerin around the shops. Chaerin is easily accomplishing in just one day, things Youngbae has been begging Jiyong to do for days... Then again, she's alive and he isn't, so there's that.

After the shops, they stop at Youngbae's house, and with the keys to the car in Jiyong's hands, he gets behind the wheel of a car for the first time since the incident with Daesung. Chaerin gingerly asks him if he's ready to drive after that, and he nods. The car has to come home.

He slides into the car and sighs at the familiarity of it all. The faint smell of cinnamon haunts the car as he starts the engine. Chaerin leaves in his car ahead of him, and in the few moments of moderately alone time he'll have until she leaves, he smiles.

"I can't believe you left me the car, you idiot..." He laughs, shaking his head. "Who am I kidding, of course I can believe that... What was the name of that candle we burned in here, do you remember?" He asks the air.

The air, in the form of Youngbae, breathes out a response. "Cinnamon Irish Cream."

Jiyong caresses the steering wheel. "Cinnamon Irish Cream... That's it... I'll have to get another one."

Youngbae stares at the side of Jiyong's face as he starts to finally drive.

"Sun, I don't know if you're here or not, but... After reading just a couple of your letters, I... I've finally realized that... I'm just nothing without you. Everything I am, was you. The guy I was with you, he's... Long gone. And I think... I think that's okay, you know? I can't live in the past forever... It won't bring you back. And that's okay... I wouldn't want to bring you back after that now. Your family is mourning... I think they're getting through the worst of it. I'm trying to do the same... I worry about Rin, though... She hasn't cried really, since Seunghyun's funeral... Do you think, maybe she's doing the same thing I do? But for me? I really hope that's not the case."

Youngbae, who's missed listening to Jiyong just talk out-loud in the hopes he was listening, can do nothing but smile. It's a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"I'm gonna take care of her. Like you took care of me... I'll make sure she gets through it too."

They finished the ride in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways, HAPPY ONE YEAR OF LAST DANCE, I want to thank my beautiful, amazing co-author, and the girl who actually came up with the idea of Last Dance, @ABL012 She's been my best friend and my rock through this moderately triggering story and this story, and myself as well, would be nothing without her. if you're seeing this, give her some love in the comments.  
she does all the important work. she helps me outline, answers all my questions, does the research I can't do, she edits, and most importantly she pushes me to keep going.  
she's the real hero of this story, and I hope you guys come to appreciate her as much as I have. xx


	18. Chapter 17 // "Darling, can you see me?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you're a slut for flashbacks, we flashback to a flashback in this one ;)

Jiyong's phone rings on the coffee table as he and Chaerin sit down for lunch. He ignores it and lets it ring out as he eats. He knows he'll only be able to ignore the quiet peace of his home for so much longer before he's forced back into the spotlight. He knows whatever he's dealing with doesn't matter, not to the people above him.

Now that he's heard in Youngbae's own words the reason they split up, he's furiously waiting for Hyunsuk to show his face. He wants to tear into that man's throat so hard it forces out words Hyunsuk's never said before. He doesn't want to work for that man anymore, but he doesn't know where he'd go without him. He's been part of YG for so long he couldn't imagine going anywhere else.

Maybe he'll just quit, he thinks. Maybe he'll quit and just stop... But that wouldn't be fair to the fans if he did.

He sighs, truly unsure of himself for the first time in a long time. He can't just leave them. Not with the others being gone for good. He begins wondering if it's too early to start day-drinking, and it's not until he sees the look Chaerin's giving him that he realizes he's spoken aloud.

She sees the shake in his hands and shakes her head as she rises from her seat. Jiyong copes differently, she reminds herself as she pours him a glass. She reminds him, gently as she sets the glass down, that she does have some business to attend to while she's here. She reminds him that she's going to have to leave him for the afternoon, and he nods as he takes the first sip from his glass.

"Please, don't overdo it tonight, okay? And for the love of all things, Jiyong, do not leave this house." She pleads as she washes her bowl. He nods, though her back is turned. "I can't hear your head nodding, Jiyong."

He sets his glass down. "Yes ma'am. I'll be here when you get back."

She sighs. "I'm not trying to keep you trapped here, Jiyong, so please don't sound so upset. I just don't want to have another night like the last one, okay? I want to come back and I want you to be here because at least I'll know you're alright."

He wants to tell her that no, she won't know he's okay just because he's at home, but he says nothing. He doesn't want to worry her before she's even left, so he does the only thing he knows how to do. He lies. He puts on a braver face, adds a smile, and he lies. He lies to her through his fucking teeth like it's what he does for a living.

"I don't think I'll have anything to drink after this one, actually. I think I'll do some more cleaning, maybe read a book."

It works like a charm. She smiles, a genuine and grateful smile. "Thank you. I'll be back a little late tonight, so don't wait up, okay?"

"You know I always wait up for you, Rin."

"Why?"

_'I've waited up for you all these times because I want to make sure you come home. I want to make sure you come in safe. I want to make sure you're alright when you come through the door because the idea of you coming back injured, or not coming back at all, physically makes me sick. I can't sleep until I know you've made it back at night. I know I can't come with you so I wait for you to come back. I can't lose you and I have to make sure you're safe.'_

"It just doesn't feel right, if I don't." He shrugs, hoping it doesn't come across as forced as it feels.

"You know I'll be just fine if you go to bed, Ji."

_'No, Rin, I don't. I don't know that. I have no way of knowing that. That's why I wait because not knowing kills me on the inside. You won't take any of my security team with you, so I truly have no way of knowing if you're okay or not. I won't know if you've been kidnapped, or if you've been followed, or anything. I won't be waiting in the living-room to ask you how it went. I won't be there to pull you into my arms and let you shake off the anxiety that came home with you. I can't go with you out there, so I have to protect you in here.'_

"I know." Is all he musters, accompanied by a smile. She seems to accept that as she grabs her purse. She presses a kiss to his temple and tousles his hair before leaving him in silence once more.

It's clear, once Jiyong has made it to the fourth glass that he originally planned to obey Chaerin's orders. He sips each slower than the last, as though he's contemplating just stopping entirely, though once he pours the fifth, he's abandoned that thought entirely. Once the alcohol has made its way into his veins, it's taken over everything that Jiyong is and replaced it with something else.

It becomes even clearer once he's settled onto the couch with his sixth glass and one of Youngbae's photo albums. He begins to reminisce, and it's ugly. After just a few short minutes, he slams the book shut and rises from the couch. He digs into the top drawer of his dresser once more and pulls out the same baggie from before. He pushes the purple pills around again before once again putting too many into his mouth and washing the taste down with alcohol.

_"People are going to notice there's something wrong with you, Kwon Jiyong, and one day you will too."_ Youngbae had said to him once... He was sure Youngbae was right, as he was rarely ever wrong, really. In Jiyong's eyes anyway. Dong Youngbae could have told him that the Sun was a planet and he would have taken his word as gospel.

_"I will beat the goddamned drugs out of you if that's what it takes."_ He'd said it with such certainty that day. Jiyong almost wishes he were here to see him chasing another high.

He stares out his bedroom window, glass clenched tightly in his hands. Thinking back on that day, for some reason, brings a smile to his face. It was so stupid of them to fight like that. He knows it now. He hopes wherever Youngbae is, that he knows it too.

_Youngbae grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up to stand, then took a deep breath before smacking Jiyong across the face as hard as he could. Jiyong, sad it didn't hurt thanks to the number of drugs still coursing through his blood, just laughed. The action took this man, his friend, his hyung... (His lover. His ex-lover, now, Jiyong reminds himself.) Off guard. He looked shocked, and it just made Jiyong laugh harder._

_"You hit like a bitch, hyung." These were the first words Jiyong had said to Youngbae in weeks._

_Jiyong tasted blood, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. He just stood a little straighter, squared his shoulders, and forced a smile that looked more sinister than anything. "Maybe you should let the maknae try. I'm sure he can do better."_

_Youngbae throws a glance over his shoulder at Seungri, who leaned against the counters behind him. His previously downcast eyes were wide with fear for his hyungs. Youngbae, who'd decided that maybe a grade-a beating is what Jiyong needed, grabs Jiyong once again and shoves him against the wall._

_Seungri doesn't have enough time to cross the kitchen before Youngbae has hit Jiyong once again, delivering a blow that knocks the air out of Jiyong. Jiyong, who doubles over with the force of the blow, coughs for air as Seungri desperately tries to wrestle Youngbae away from his already impaired hyung. Jiyong's coughing ceases only to be replaced by laughter, which takes both Youngbae and Seungri off guard once again._

_"Is... Is that all you got, Sun?"_

_Youngbae, filled with unbridled rage, surges forward for Jiyong, who doesn't flinch as Seungri yanks Youngbae swiftly in the opposite direction. "Let me go!"_

_"Hyung, you'll kill him!" Seungri pleads, voice desperate and scared._

_Youngbae's chest heaves and he barely seems to be registering his own words. It's hard to imagine Youngbae can hear much past the rush of blood in his ears. "It's what he wants, anyway! Isn't it? Tell him, Jiyong! Tell Seungri what you're doing! Tell Seungri you're trying to fucking kill yourself, why don't you?"_

_Jiyong, feeling an unexplainable twinge of pain in his heart- he would later know to call guilt- steps unsteadily away from the wall. "Stop."_

_Youngbae, angry, and finally getting through to him, refuses. "No! He deserves to know if his closest hyung is going to drop dead! He deserves to know that when his hyung dies, he did it on purpose! He deserves to know that his hyung won't deserve any fucking sympathy because he did it to himself!"_

_Jiyong, throat tight from swallowing his sadness at the fear and tears in Seungri's eyes, shakes his head. "Stop it."_

_"You don't have any plans to stop, so neither do I, Jiyong! He deserves to know the truth! He deserves to know that there's something fucking wrong with you!"_

_Finally fed up, Jiyong snaps. "You're fucking scaring him, stop it!"_

_"Good! He should be scared, Jiyong! For fucks sake, at any day he could walk in and see your fucking corpse on the ground, and he'll be scarred for life and it'll be your fault!"_

_Seungri, scared six ways from Sunday, digs up his courage and pushes himself between the two of them. He plants himself between the two of them, back to Jiyong. Youngbae can feel the defiance rolling off of him. They were here to stand together against Jiyong and the problem he was very obviously having right now, but here was Seungri, standing against Youngbae._

_"This isn't going to work, hyung. Jiyong-hyung needs help, and this isn't it."_

_"You're not going to be able to help him either, Seungri. I've tried. I've been trying, for so long, and I'm so tired of having to do this with him all the time, but I don't have many other options. I've tried sadness, I've tried sympathy... Nothing works with him. He's not going to understand the severity of his problem until he's dying."_

_Seungri glances over his shoulder at Jiyong. "I don't care. Maybe you're tired of helping him, but I'm not."_

Jiyong laughs as he wipes away the wetness on his cheeks. "I always hated fighting with you... But the fights were all my fault because you were right. I have a problem and it's funny, because I... I _told_ you... I told you you couldn't fix me... Nobody can."

Youngbae sighs, his breath tickling Jiyong's cheek. A smile forms on Jiyong's face and he reaches a shaking hand up to his cheek. Youngbae didn't realize just how bad Jiyong shook until then, but after that it was clear that Jiyong's whole body was shaking. He looked just as bad now as he did before.

"I shouldn't have treated you like that, Jiyongi... You needed me and I failed you, and I can never forgive myself for that... You needed my help and I failed you... There's no excuse for that, and I-"

Youngbae's cut off by the sound of the doorbell. It takes Jiyong a long moment to snap out of whatever trance he was in and turn towards the sound. He finishes off his glass and sets it on his dresser before heading towards the front door.

It's clear to them all that Jiyong wasn't expecting company based on the way he carries himself towards the door. He's slow and cautious, and his breath trembles like his hands do. Daesung clings to Youngbae's arm, even though whoever's at the door won't be able to see them.

Seunghyun, feeling some foreign aching in his soul, is drawn to the door. He follows just behind Jiyong, their bodies almost touching as Jiyong pulls the front door open. They're assaulted by cologne and shock as there, in the door, stands Seunghyun's father.

Jiyong's anxiety begins rolling off of him as alcohol and drug diluted sweat at the sight of his best friend's father in the doorway. He says nothing for a good long moment and Jiyong's panicking because this is the first time he's seen this man since Seunghyun's funeral.

Unable to trust himself to say anything correctly, and unable to speak, Jiyong bows his head and backs out of the doorway to allow the man into his home. Seunghyun's father is silent as he steps into the living room. He doesn't take the time to focus on any one thing, instead allowing his eyes to roam as he tries to take it all in at once.

They all seem to realize at once- Jiyong, Seunghyun, his father- that this man has never once been inside of Jiyong's home until this very moment. And it makes Jiyong desperate to know why he's here, but he doesn't dare speak. Not yet. Not until he can figure out what kind of mood he's in.

Jiyong is afraid, to Seunghyun this is clear. He's standing so still if it weren't for the rise and fall of his shoulders, he wouldn't be sure Jiyong was breathing anymore. He stands, though he's dead, protectively between the two of them.

"It wasn't until you were older that you started calling me 'sir'. If I remember correctly, you used to call me-"

"Abeoji... I remember." Jiyong breathes. "I can't very well call you that anymore."

Seunghyun's father says nothing, and it's the push Jiyong needs to keep talking. "Why are you here?"

It takes him a long moment to speak, but when he does, neither Jiyong or Seunghyun miss the way his voice cracks. "Because, my son left things to you in his will. I need to do at least this last thing for him."

"That doesn't answer my question." Jiyong's getting desperate, and his voice is breaking and Seunghyun doesn't even have to look to know that he's crying. "You _threw_ me out of his funeral! You dragged me out and threw me on the street!"

Jiyong sobs, entire body shaking as he yells at this man in front of him. "He was my best friend! He was more than that! And I loved him _so_ much and you threw me out on my ass!"

Everything in Seunghyun wanted to walk over and pull Jiyong into his arms. He starts towards him before he remembers that he can't hold Jiyong anymore. He settles for putting his hand on his shoulder. The second he does, Jiyong lets out another sob.

Daesung reaches out and puts his hand on Jiyong's back. Jiyong shakes as he touches his knuckles to his cheek. Seunghyun's father sighs.

"He loved you too."

Jiyong, who thinks that telling the truth might take away his pain, shakes as he forces himself to hold in another sob. "I was in love with your son."

Seunghyun's father says nothing, as Seunghyun himself tenses and looks over his shoulder to make eye contact with Youngbae.

Jiyong backpedals very quickly on his statement. "Okay, I-I don't know if I was _in love_ with him or not, I just know that I loved him, so much more than I ever thought I would. I know that he was so, so good to me all the time, and I know he saved my life on more than one occasion and now he's gone... He's gone and you blame me, and hundreds of thousands of people blame me too."

Jiyong knows Seunghyun's father- a very old fashioned man- doesn't approve of a word he's saying, but he can't stop.

"I had a really bad drug problem, in 2013, and even in 2014 too, and if it wasn't for your son... If it wasn't for Seunghyun and his love, I would've died. I know you don't approve, and I'm sorry you have to hear this and from me of all people, but I'm begging you to understand- I-"

Jiyong is cut off when Seunghyun's father pulls him into an embrace that neither of them seemed to see coming. He returned the hug, and it felt like a weight being lifted from his shoulders. "I don't approve, but I know you can't change who you are."

Jiyong feels such a wave of relief washing over him that he can't hold it in anymore and he cries. He cries and when he looks up, Seunghyun's father is crying too. Their hearts are both broken and they spent so much time facing away from one another that they couldn't see they were the same, on the inside. They were hurt, they were sad, and they had lost. And nothing brings people together like loss.

Jiyong, with pupils the size of saucers, looked up at Seunghyun's dad after they'd both finally calmed down, with a smile. Finally calm, the two of them brought in the things Seunghyun had left specifically for Jiyong and nobody else. It wasn't anywhere close to the amount that Youngbae had left him, but the things he'd been left made him cry again on the spot.

Seunghyun had left him exactly two things. A heavy wooden chest, containing Seunghyun's favorite jackets and gloves and rings, and a statue that they'd bought together, during the short time they were together. It had been one of Seunghyun's favorites, and now here it sat, next to his wall of windows in his bedroom. Parts of the stone were charred black from the fire in Seunghyun's home.

The chest, Seunghyun's father had said, remained perfectly unscathed during the blaze, protected where it sat in the attic.

Jiyong sat with his back to the wall, another full glass in his hands. He couldn't focus. He hadn't been able to think straight since Seunghyun's father had left. He was a mess, inside and out and he knew it. He reaches a shaking finger out to brush it along the edges of the statue. This one piece of art has been through so much. They'd found it in a heap of trash and taken it home and cleaned it up. They'd admired it for hours, and they'd used it in their Loser music video, and now here it was.

Parts that were once white were now covered in black strokes where the heat licked the stone and stained it for life. Jiyong sees a bit of himself in it now. He was once clean and pure, and now he was this... Stained thing. An image nobody had ever interpreted the same as another viewer had. Even he was unsure of he was meant to be.

He supposes, as he takes a long moment to light a cigarette, that's what he's always been. A stray tear falls down his cheek as he leans his head against the statue. He's hoping that Daesung and Seungri didn't leave him anything because he's not sure he can handle doing this again, let alone twice.

He doesn't want to face the parents of his friends anymore. He hasn't even seen his own parents since it happened, he's refused. He doesn't want to be seen like this. He doesn't want his family to know just how hard he's taking this, and he doesn't want them to know that he's using again.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette and when he exhales, he's absolutely certain that he sees Seunghyun sitting on the edge of his bed. He stares at this figment of his imagination with wide eyes and a heavy heart.

This Seunghyun he's imagining, looks back with eyes just as wide. "I miss you."

Jiyong's words catch in his throat before he forces them out. "I miss you too, hyung."

He stands from the bed and walks closer and closer, until he's standing over Jiyong's drunken form. "You don't have to miss me, you know? Not if you join me... We could be together again. You, me... Youngbae."

Jiyong's heart skips a couple of beats, and he's just about to respond when the door to his bedroom opens and Seunghyun's form disappears when the light streams in. Chaerin stands in the door, smiling sadly. She doesn't say anything as she kicks her heels off and drops her jacket on the floor.

Jiyong sets his glass down and swaps his cigarette into his other hand, opening himself up for her to sit next to him and settle herself against his side. She does, like she always does after a rough day. He wraps his arm around her and kisses the top of her head and she lets out a heavy sigh, like she was letting go of a breath she didn't know she was still holding onto.

He blows his smoke away from her, to be respectful and polite. She didn't like smoking, but she never tried to stop him. He was thankful for that, because at this point he wasn't really sure what he'd do if it wasn't this. He'd already done things far worse to himself, sure, but that wasn't the point. They both knew it.

They'd sat together in silence for a good long while before Chaerin broke the silence by taking Jiyong's empty glass from him. "How many have you had, oppa?" 

With just one word, she'd sent Jiyong so far into his own head he wasn't sure if he was ever going to come out of it again. Oppa. She hadn't called him that in a long time. So long, in fact, he couldn't think of the last time she had. As he thought back it was just years and years of nothing. But here she was, curled into his side, calling him her oppa.

And suddenly Jiyong realizes he's been so overwhelmingly selfish. He wasn't the only one of them that lost something. He wasn't the only one that lost friends. Here she was, in all of her incorruptible kindness, putting Jiyong first. And here he was, taking advantage of her and her large heart, completely destroying himself in front of her eyes.

"Too many." He finally musters with a sigh. "No more... Not tonight."

She nods, twisting the glass around in her fingers. He sees the anger flash across her face and he sees it leave her features as quickly as it landed there in the first place. He smiles, seeing himself in her. It dawns on him that he's always seen himself in her, and in the others too. He saw something of him in each and every one of them and now that they're gone he feels like he's lost pieces of himself. He's not wrong, but seeing Chaerin here, knowing she too sees herself in him, solidifies it for him.

He has to be greater, for her. They're each all the other has left in the way of self-made family.

So, as she slides the glass away from them, they sit. In comfortable silence, their tiny family rests against the walls of their broken home. Together, momentarily whole.


	19. Chapter 18 // "My phone keeps on ringing."

Jiyong wakes with a start. Not to light coming through the curtains, or Chaerin shifting in the bed beside him, but to the constant ringing of his phone.

He declines the call without even looking to see who it was and as soon as he's turned over and gotten comfortable again, the sound begins anew. He sighs and declines the call yet again as Chaerin curls up against his shoulder. Her makeup from yesterday is smeared across her face and Jiyong takes a picture just because, and his phone rings again.

He puts his phone on silent.

Finally comfortable again, he rests his head on top of hers and manages to doze back off. It's a restless sleep, Jiyong's only security to unconsciousness being Chaerin next to him. He's always slept better with someone else next to him, no matter how much sleeping he does. He can fall asleep anywhere, but staying asleep is something else entirely.

He manages maybe an hour at best before Chaerin's phone begins ringing and she reluctantly rolls over and answers it without a second thought. Still mostly sleeping, she puts the phone to her ear. She's on the phone for maybe 10 seconds before she's rolling over and offering the phone to Jiyong.

He shakes his head with his eyes closed, but she puts the phone to his ear as she drops her head back to her pillow.

He grunts into the receiver and it seems to be enough for whoever's on the other end to start speaking. It's a voice Jiyong was hoping to avoid.

"I've been trying to reach you all morning, Jiyong."

"Mmm, Hyunsuk. I've been ignoring you all morning. What a coincidence."

"I'm tired of doing this with you, Jiyong. My office, 10:30." Then the line goes dead.

Jiyong, who doesn't want to see Hyunsuk today or ever, rolls over in bed with a loud groan into his pillow. Chaerin seems to feel the same as she follows behind with a loud groaning of her own. She mutters nearly incomprehensibly into her pillow, but Jiyong still understands. He gives her a wave of the hand he knows she can't see, but he knows she understands all the same as he pulls himself from the bed.

He fits a cigarette between his teeth and lights it with his eyes closed as he stumbles towards the kitchen to start coffee. He doesn't bother to turn any of the lights on, he knows Chaerin will turn on whichever lights she sees fit when she makes her way to this side of the house. He ashes his cigarette into the kitchen sink and sighs. He can almost hear Youngbae scolding him for it now.

He rinses the ashes out and makes his way back to the bedroom. When Chaerin isn't in bed he figures she's migrated to her own bathroom for a shower and he decides to do the same. She's always showered faster than him, so it's no surprise that she's there waiting in the kitchen when he emerges. She's already made his cup of coffee the way he likes and made herself at home on a barstool before he'd even managed to dry his hair.

He doesn't mind though, he never has. It was strangely domestic.

He begins to sing to himself as he makes breakfast, though for a moment he's not sure what he's singing. "Because I know what's going on, baby I don't hate you..."

Chaerin perks up ever so slightly. Jiyong hasn't sung in weeks and his voice is scratchy and there's an underlying pain in it.

He only makes breakfast for her. He doesn't like eating before seeing Hyunsuk, he never has. Once upon a time he visited right after breakfast and got sick the moment he left the office, so since then he's never had breakfast before a meeting. He feels sick every time he's in that office, and he's never known why but he's not always one to test fate.

He's hoping and praying, to whatever God might still be out there, Hyunsuk doesn't suspect him of any of the things he's definitely been doing. It's not like he's done anything _too_ illegal anyway, so Hyunsuk shouldn't have anything to yell at him for. Then again, who was he kidding? He always found something to yell about whether it was Jiyong's fault or not.

Given the way things were the last time they saw one another, Jiyong doesn't expect this meeting to be very civil. Though, with Hyunsuk, he never does. He's been very lucky that the boys were there several dozen times over, because there were always things Hyunsuk wouldn't say in front of them... Now that they were gone, there was nothing stopping him from being the asshole that he always was when they were away.

Chaerin had planned on tagging along, she had some business to attend to in the building anyway. She figured she'd follow him to Hyunsuk's office... Just in case. She never saw the harm in following if it meant they'd both behave.

Jiyong knew he couldn't talk her out of it, so he said nothing. He was too lost in his own world to speak right now, and he hoped she knew because conveying words was not his strong suit right now- not that they ever were to begin with.

When the car pulls up outside, Jiyong's already pulled his jacket on and settled his sunglasses over his eyes. Chaerin follows him in silence, and he likes it that way. It's still too early for words as he lights up a cigarette, cracking the window just enough to suck the smoke out. He leans his head against the door as they ride. Chaerin checks her phone, one leg crossed over the other as she leans against him.

The driver looks at them through the rear-view mirror, and Jiyong stares back. He's got nothing to prove to this man, or anyone. Even now, the closer they get to YGHQ, the less Jiyong feels like himself. He can feel himself slipping away and turning into something else entirely. He didn't like being there as himself. He knew he couldn't take it, but he knew G-Dragon could.

Kwon Jiyong cares so much about what people think of him, and he wants to please them. Not G-Dragon. He was always unapologetically himself and made sure everyone knew it, too. He didn't give a fuck what anyone thought about him, because it wasn't about them. It was about him and being comfortable with himself and what he made and that's it.

Chaerin feels Jiyong stiffen underneath him and she seems to feel the change in him before he's even spoken because she sits upright and stops touching him. She knows when Jiyong needs his space, and it's now more than ever. He's never liked meetings, she knew, especially with Hyunsuk.

Their ride is silent, as is their walk through the office building. The same junior groups they passed before were now silent, casting their eyes down the moment their eyes met. The silence that followed them through the building was deafening.

The receptionist on Hyunsuk's floor didn't even bother to stop them, nor did she bother to tell him they were there. She simply allowed them to pass her desk and walk straight into the office. She secretly loved listening to Jiyong standing up for himself.

Despite Hyunsuk's 'no smoking in the office' rule, Jiyong lit up a cigarette the moment he passed through the doorway. Hyunsuk began to reprimand him but quit the moment he made eye contact with Jiyong.

Jiyong was a tightly lidded jar, but with all the pressure on the inside it was only a matter of time before the lid came off.

"You have a lot of nerve, you know? You must think you're pretty slick, huh? Youngbae told me what you did."

Hyunsuk's features are flooded with confusion, but only for a moment before he clenches his jaw and straightens his back.

Jiyong continues, flicking his ashes onto the floor of the office. "You're lucky he didn't tell me before, or I would have killed you... I would have fucking killed you, and I hope you understand that... That was the worst time in my entire life up until now, and it was all your fault... I hope that fucking haunts you forever, you know? With how much you say you care."

"I do care about you, Jiyong."

Jiyong, a sinister smile on his lips, turns to look at Chaerin as he straddles a chair to face Hyunsuk. "Oh yeah? Then where were you when your little stunt put me onto a drug problem? Where were you when my friends had to see me like that? Where were you, and all your caring bullshit when I was trying to kill myself after every concert, so maybe I'd be free of the living fucking hell you made for me?"

Hyunsuk sits up straighter, straightens his tie and his jacket. "Jiyong, that's enough. I brought you here because I need to tell you, the tour dates have been finalized."

Jiyong throws his head back in laughter. He laughs so hard his whole body shakes and he feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. "You're not serious, are you? Bigbang is over! It's _dead_ and so is everyone that was a part of it! And I certainly can't tour on my own, I don't have any new music. You must just be delusional."

"It's a memorial tour. You'll be touring alone and taking all of your old music with you, and you'll be paying tribute to the members of the band."

Jiyong's chest hurts. It's the only thing he can focus on. His chest is heavy with the weight of Hyunsuk's words and it fucking _hurts_. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He finally breathes, and the weight only gets heavier. The words keep spilling out of him but he doesn't feel any connection to them, almost as if the words aren't his to begin with.

"We were only money to you, weren't we? That has to be it, with the way you're exploiting their deaths, like they didn't mean anything to you. You don't want a memorial for them, you want to fucking line your pockets with the money of people in mourning and you make me fucking sick! You're nothing but a slimy pig who rolls in the money of the men stuck in the mud and I hope when you die, you fucking burn in hell."

"Jiyong-"

"No! They're fucking dead and you don't even seem to give a shit! They deserve better than this! They deserve to rest in fucking peace, goddammit!" Jiyong stood from where he sat, cigarette still burning in his fingers like the fire in his chest. "You can fire me for all I care, but I'm not fucking doing it. I'm not putting their families through that mess, and I won't put myself through it either."

Daesung pulled his hand away from Jiyong's chest and watched as his hyung sucked in a deep breath. Daesung was forced to do the same, though he didn't need to breathe anymore. He clutched desperately at his own chest as he fell backward into Seunghyun's arms.

"What just happened to me? What'd I do to him?"

There's a quiet shuffling behind them and he assumes it's Youngbae until he turns and it's Seungri. "I think you possessed him."

There's a silence in the room and a weight in the air that everyone- living or dead- can feel and it's so unbearable Daesung struggled to focus. There was silence, and then there was chaos. Hyunsuk rose from his desk and Chaerin shot forward to put herself between the two boys. Youngbae did the same, though instead, he was throwing himself between the two youngest members as Daesung shot forward towards Seungri.

The yelling started from both sides of the room all at once.

On one side, "Who the hell do you think you are?!" On the other side, "Where the hell have you been?!"

It was like a mirror, as Jiyong and Seungri both remained perfectly still on opposite sides of the room. They both held themselves up straight, both wore the same blank stare... It was sad, Daesung thought. He looked just like Jiyong now, or rather, he always had.

He modeled himself after Jiyong in such a way Daesung had never noticed until now. It made sense, they were always so close and Seungri looked up to Jiyong.

Daesung didn't feel right being angry anymore, so as quickly as the emotion came it was gone. It was good too, because there were more pressing matters that they'd need to tend to, in the same way Jiyong would need to tend to his newly bloodied nose and lips.

He smiled through the blood and Daesung felt sick at the sight. Jiyong didn't fight back, didn't raise his hands. He just stepped closer and shoved himself into Hyunsuk's space. "This is your one warning... If you ever touch me again, I'll fucking kill you."

The ride to Jiyong's home was worryingly silent. Despite Chaerin's prompting, Jiyong had yet to speak a word past his threat to Hyunsuk. He doesn't remember leaving the office, but he remembers the way one of the kids in the halls had looked at him. It was like he'd seen a ghost, and maybe he had. Jiyong wondered more often than not if he was really dead and if this was his hell.

It seemed like hell, with almost all of his friends being gone, being stuck with Hyunsuk for what seemed like an eternity. He figured this must be hell, he must be dead. But every time he looked up and made eye contact with Chaerin he knew this was his real life, and he was very much alive.

She kept trying to get him to speak all the way home, but he couldn't find it within himself to speak, so he didn't. He didn't try to offer her anything else in its place. He just... Stared. He was sure it wasn't broken, though he couldn't tell. It still hurt like a bitch. It would be just his luck if he was meant to go on some tour and now he'd gotten his nose broken. It would just make his week.

Once they step out of the car, Chaerin asks for his phone, and he doesn't hesitate to pull it from his pocket and give it to her. He wonders what she's doing and she seems to take the confused look on his face as prompting to tell him, so she does.

"I'm calling that woman you had over. You said she was a nurse, so she can look at your nose."

He begins to silently protest, but she smacks his hands away from the phone as she puts it to her ear. She points him in the direction of the living room as a way of telling him to leave. It was almost as though she were scolding a dog or a child, though she was convinced either one would listen better than Jiyong.

He sat there, grumbling like a petulant child until Chaerin entered the room again. "Why would you call her?"

"Because I know you won't see a doctor. And before you say it, no, I don't like her, but I know she's more than likely going to be the only other person you'll allow near you, and I don't want to hear another word about it."

He can't even argue with her. He doesn't have it in him, doesn't have the energy to even try. All he does is nod and lean back into the couch. He doesn't attempt to stop her from wiping at the blood on his face, and although he doesn't flinch, he doesn't try to hide the pain from her.

His eyes trail over her face, and he feels the heavy weight in his chest as he thinks about what a world without her might feel like. He bites his lip as he tries to swallow his emotions but they're bubbling up and spilling out of him before he knows it. He's crying before he can even stop himself and she's blinking in surprise because she's just as shocked as he is- if not more.

She's putting her rag down, more afraid that she's hurt him than anything else and the moment she does, he's lunging forward to pull her into his arms. She settles in against his chest and just lets him cry it out, though she doesn't understand what's prompted this at all, and she's not sure she wants to. There was always a reason behind Jiyong's tears, so for him to cry out of nowhere must mean there's something horrible happening inside of him that not even she can understand.

"You were gone for a week, Seungri, how can you not know where you went?" Daesung scoffs, running his fingers through his hair. They can hear Jiyong crying in the other room but it's a sound they've become accustomed to as of late.

"I'm telling you, Dae, I was here the whole time."

"Can you phase too, then?" Seunghyun asks as he stares into the living room.

Seungri just shrugs. "Something like that."

Daesung sighs, "So what, you were just hiding out in the hallway for a week then?"

They stare at one another for a very long moment. 'Hiding in the hallway' was a phrase the group rarely used anymore, but held all the weight in their current situation as it did before.

_Youngbae exited the kitchen and swiftly walked down the hallway, anger set into his features like a stone sculpture. Seungri followed out behind him, but slow enough to actually notice Daesung's presence. Daesung, still in his pajamas, stood bleary-eyed and scared before the maknae._

_"I heard yelling... What happened?"_

_Seungri looked over his shoulder in the direction Youngbae had gone, then back into the kitchen where he'd left Jiyong sobbing at the table and sighed before he pulled Daesung back into his bedroom._

_"So, I was on my way out earlier and I accidentally bumped into Jiyong-hyung in the hallway, and he dropped his bag. So I picked it up and it had these pills in it, I don't know what they are, but I didn't say anything, so I called Youngbae-hyung to come and check on him, and it turns out they're like, hard drugs, I don't remember what he said. Anyway, it turns out Jiyong-hyung has a drug problem, and I'm guessing he has for a while based on what the hyung's were saying, and-"_

_Daesung stopped the maknae with a finger to the cheek. Seungri was prone to his face turning red when he ranted like this, but it had never done this before. Seungri turned away from Daesung's touch and didn't give it another thought._

Despite Chaerin's prompting, he refuses to get into his feelings right now. He's managed to stop crying, and he's managed to compose himself for the time being. Chaerin is about to ask him again but the doorbell stops her. She gives Jiyong a look that means 'we'll talk about this later' and goes to the door.

There's no sound that Jiyong can hear before the two girls step back into his line of sight. They both look worried for him, and it's a sight he never thought he'd see in his life, even though he's seen it before. Different places, different faces, but still the same look.

Heonae approaches him with caution and sits her bag at his feet. She kneels before him and he closes his eyes as she begins touching his face. He remembered Youngbae grabbing his nose in the same way, only this time it hurt much worse.

"Broken, as I thought... Alright, Jiyong, I'm seeing it's a little crooked so I'm going to straighten it out so you can heal, okay? It's going to be pretty uncomfortable, and you can tell me if it hurts."

He wasn't used to her being so kind. He assumed it was because Chaerin was here.

After straightening him out- which was the most uncomfortable feeling of his life- having tools put up his nose and a dressing put on the outside, Heonae sighs.

"Okay. I'm going to have you put on some pain killers, and some antibiotics just in case. I'm gonna call that in and I'll text you where they can be picked up from, okay?"

She puts a couple of pills into his hand, informing him that these will help with the pain for the time being and he puts them into his mouth without another thought about it. She says something else but he isn't listening.

He nods, uninterested. He doesn't want to speak to her here, because anything he'd say to her he refuses to say in front of Chaerin. He doesn't even open his eyes, because he doesn't want to see them there. He doesn't want to see the concern on Chaerin's face, and he doesn't want to see the fake concern on Heonae either.

He leans back into the couch and feels a heavy weight on his thigh again. He brushes it off because he knows it's not real. He knows he's just imagining things to make himself feel better. He's probably just becoming hyper-aware of his phone again, just like last time. It's happened before, so why shouldn't it happen now?

He's not sure how it happens, but he can feel himself dozing off on the couch and he's asleep before he can stop himself from slipping under.

_Seungri glances over his shoulder at Jiyong. "I don't care. Maybe you're tired of helping him, but I'm not."_

_Jiyong's chest heaves as he stares at Youngbae. Youngbae shakes his head. "Seungri, move."_

_It becomes clear after several seconds of the maknae standing his ground that he wouldn't move until he was moved by force. Youngbae grabs his arm and tries to move him, but Jiyong easily yanks Seungri back from Youngbae's grip. "Don't you touch him!"_

_Youngbae, blinded by his sadness disguised as rage, swings on Jiyong. Jiyong shifts away just in time but when he hears Youngbae's hand connect anyways, it feels as though he were slapped. The shock on the maknae's face as he clutches his cheek is enough for Jiyong to lunge forward for Youngbae and shove him with all of his might._

_Youngbae went back with the force of the push and Jiyong's chest heaved with anger as he planted himself firmly between Youngbae and Seungri. "If you ever touch him again-"_

_"It was an accident! Seungri, I'm so sorry I-"_

_"I'll kill you, Youngbae! If you ever touch him like that again I'll kill you!"_

_They both knew that realistically, Jiyong wouldn't ever kill anyone he threatened like that, but they both knew that it took a lot for the words to even leave Jiyong's lips. They also knew that Youngbae would never intentionally bring harm to any of them- save Jiyong._

_The tension in the air was higher than it'd ever been before as Youngbae stood and excused himself from the room. He left quickly and Seungri followed behind, leaving Jiyong alone in the kitchen. He sat down and cried. He wasn't sure where the tears came from, but as soon as they came he couldn't stop them anymore._

_He knew this had to stop, and soon, though he'd just gotten started. All of this started when Youngbae dumped him and now he didn't know what else to do with himself. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever, but he'd do anything to fill the empty darkness that grew inside of him with every passing day. He never wanted this. He never wanted to be so consumed by a relationship that it left him so broken when it ended, but here he was._

_Here he was, crying into the kitchen table in the middle of the night, hoping to god none of his other friends made it into the kitchen to see him like this. It was bad enough that the maknae had been the one to call Youngbae in the first place. It was bad enough he had to see Jiyong like that in the hallway... If Daesung or Seunghyun found him like this, he wouldn't know what else to do._

_He's not a leader, he knows that now. You can't be a leader with an addiction, it just doesn't work like that. And he never meant to get addicted, really. When he was offered something to take the edge off at a party one night, he didn't' think it would lead to something as horrible as this. This was the third time he and Youngbae had had this discussion in the last six months and it was a wonder the other members didn't already know about his problem._

_For fuck's sake, he'd gone through withdrawals on stage in front of millions of people before, it was a wonder they didn't know it too. Though he supposes withdrawals from a distance could just be mistaken for, well, the strain of performing. He hoped. He didn't want to get this far out of hand. He didn't want to be like this but he didn't know how to stop._

_Youngbae was desperately trying to help him, he knew, but it didn't seem to be working. Nothing did. Nothing seemed to work. Maybe he really would die like this, he thought. The pills still sat on the table where Youngbae had thrown them after wrestling them out of Jiyong's hands. He couldn't lie to Youngbae, he never could._

_As it would turn out, he couldn't lie to Seungri either. He realized the more he thought about it, what a horrible liar he really was._

Youngbae stares down at Jiyong's sleeping form on the couch. His breathing is much slower than Youngbae feels comfortable with, and it's much slower than how he's used to seeing Jiyong breathe. He'd begged Jiyong not to take whatever that woman had given him, based on all of the other horrible things she'd done to him already, but Jiyong couldn't hear him.

They needed to get Jiyong out of the house, even if only for a little while. They needed to take him out and get his mind off of everything like they used to, but now the only person that could do that was Chaerin. Normally, he'd suggest basketball, but with a broken nose, there was only so much Jiyong could do.

Seunghyun watched as Chaerin perched up on one of the barstools in the kitchen. He watched her make sure she could see Jiyong where he slept, and then he watched her as she put her head into her hands and cried. She was quiet as she cried, her whole body shaking with the force of it.

He leaned closer to her, listening as she cried, "I don't know what to do... I don't know how to help him now that you're gone..."

"You're doing your best... Thank you for that. You're the only one constantly checking in on him... We don't know what he'd do without you." He sighs.

She takes in a shaking breath as she raises her head and he swears she looks right at him. She only sees the clock on the wall behind him.

Seungri approaches Youngbae, where he still protectively stands over Jiyong. "He's dreaming about you."

Youngbae looks taken aback. "About me?"

Seungri nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "About the time we busted him in the kitchen."

Something inside of Youngbae begins to hurt. It starts behind his eyes and travels down to his heart and he figures rather quickly that what he's feeling is the pain of guilt. For that moment, so long ago to still live rent-free within Jiyong's memory... It hurt. He can see now just how much pain it's caused Jiyong now. He turns to Seungri and sees the hints of pain on his features and the guilt starts all over again. How much pain had that interaction caused Seungri over the years?

"Seungri... About that night... I'm sorry. For all of it. And even more, I'm sorry for never apologizing until now."

"It's not your fault, hyung. I can only imagine how hard it was for you, then."

Youngbae shakes his head and turns to the maknae with tears in his eyes. He bows his head. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. It's inexcusable."

Jiyong shoots up into a sitting position on the couch, eyes wide open and full of tears as he stares directly through the both of them at something even they can't see.

"Wake up!" The voice booms, penetrating Jiyong's now-dreamless sleep.

He jolts up, very much awake. His eyes land on the culprit, the haunting image of his dead friend sitting just feet away from him with a sinister grin.

"I'm getting antsy, Jiyong. Have you thought about what I said?"

Jiyong covers his ears and lowers his head. "No, I don't want to... You're not real."

"Let's see the end to this madness, Jiyong. It's not that hard. All you have to do is pour the gasoline and light the match! And it'll be over."

"I don't want to die, hyung, please..." He pleads, voice trembling.

"You do! You can't lie to me, Jiyong. You can't lie to me because I'm you. I'm you, and the only way to escape me, escape you..."

Jiyong's breath hitches in his throat. "Is to die..."

He shakes his head and rubs his eyes so hard it creates spots in his vision, and when he opens his eyes and the figure is still there, he shakes his head. He stands too fast and he sways, only catching himself on the couch at the last second.

He realizes rather suddenly that he's afraid. Truly afraid, for the first time in a long time. He knows that this isn't real, and he knows he definitely needs to get help before it gets too bad. His heart starts beating faster, too fast he thinks.

"Rin!"

He's not even sure that her name made it out of his mouth until she's coming around the corner from the kitchen, worry written all over her face as she approaches him. She grabs him around the waist to steady him and he grips tightly onto her shoulders, fear etched into his features.

She's talking, but he can't hear her over the rush of blood in one ear and the quiet murmur of his imagination in the other. He blinks as he tries to force himself to focus on her, but he's dizzy and he's scared and suddenly he thinks back to whatever pill Heonae gave him and he panics because he doesn't know what it was but he knows it wasn't good.

"Rin, I... I need help."

She didn't have to ask him why, in fact, she refused. For Kwon Jiyong to admit something was wrong, she knew it took a lot. The fact that he said it now, with such certainty made her so deeply afraid for him, she couldn't do anything but nod.


	20. Chapter 19 // "Don't ask me anything, I can't give you an answer."

Jiyong awoke with a sense of hope in his bones that he hadn't felt before. He's ready for the day, but his limbs are still heavy with sleep as he forces himself to part from the mattress. He lights a cigarette before he makes his way to the kitchen to start the morning brew.

He was awake far too early for his appointment, he knew, but he also liked having the time to get ready. Quietly, so as not to disturb her, Jiyong pokes his head into Chaerin's room to find her still sleeping. He was glad she wasn't awake yet, as it was early and he'd already disrupted her schedule farther every day she insisted on staying with him.

He couldn't shower until she got up, as he couldn't get his bandages wet and she helped him wash his hair. He was glad to have the bandages off today, though he'd still have to take it easy. He was glad he didn't have to make his second appointment of the day with the bandages on, as he still thought first impressions were important.

He quietly closed the door behind him and sighed as he leaned against the wall. No wonder she wasn't awake yet, it was only three-thirty in the morning. She wouldn't be up for three more hours, at the earliest, which meant he had plenty of time to himself this morning. He didn't even know what to do with himself, really.

He couldn't take anything, since he was about to see several doctors in a row. He couldn't go anywhere, thanks to Hyunsuk reinstating his security detail. He didn't have any friends to call 'round this early. He was stuck.

He lit another cigarette and filled his mug as he made his way to the 'office'. It wasn't really an office, per se, but that's where he tended to most of his office-like activities. He opened the window next to his desk, allowing the crisp autumnal air to rustle the papers about the room.

This was Jiyong's favorite weather. It was cold, and foggy outside, the way October normally was. He was glad to see that even with everything in his life spiraling out of control, the weather remained consistent with the time.

Finally feeling content with being alone for the first time recently, he opted to open up one of his numerous sketchbooks and see what happened. He didn't really have any specific thought as he began, though several ideas did come to him over the course of the time he spent just drawing. Before he knew it he was dipping paintbrushes into his coffee and using the dark liquid like a watercolor.

He had to remind himself at every turn not to drink out of the cup anymore and it was torture but it was worth it once he finally saw the image his mind had created. He stared down at the thick paper and a stunning image of Youngbae's eyes stared back. The image warmed his heart and finally, with purpose, he leaned forward to add the others to the paper.

By the time he was finished, he could instantly pick one set of eyes from the others. He felt like he was being watched, but more in a comforting way than anything else. He looked into his cup of coffee and sighed as he went for a refill.

He wasn't sure what happened while he was in the kitchen. He was sure the coffee had dried on the pages well before he'd even left the room, but when he came back the coffee was streaked beneath every pair of eyes like tears. He didn't bother trying to paint anything else.

Having the dressings removed from his nose was the easy part, he knew. The hard part was keeping his eyes off of Heonae the whole time because today he felt an attraction to her that he just couldn't place. She seemed to know it too, based on the extra sway of her hips as she passed him.

The hard part was the sad look on Chaerin's face when she saw the remaining bruise leftover on his nose. The hard part was trying not to tell her that he'd had worse and that he'd done worse to himself because there was a lot she didn't know. There's a lot she was never told and he prayed to God that it stayed that way.

He wondered in silence as they got into the car if anyone had ever told her anything about what he'd done in the past. He wondered as she sat next to him in the car if she'd ever sat down at the same kitchen table he'd cried at and cried over the things she'd been told about him. He wondered as she smiled up at him over the top of her phone if she knew all the things he'd put himself through.

He wondered, as the car parked outside of the unfamiliar building, if Youngbae had sat there and cried with her as he told her everything Jiyong had done. He wondered as he stepped out into the cold air if she'd heard about the drugs, the fighting, all of it. Any of it.

His breath hitched in his throat as he made sure his mask was perfectly settled over his face. It felt weird, having that pressure on his nose, no matter how light it was. His mask, both literal and fictional, fit like a glove as he walked up the steps of the building.

The atmosphere changed the moment he walked through the front door. While the outside of the building was cold brick, the lobby was soft creams and whites offset by dark brown wood. He stepped from the biting air into the inviting space filled with friendly-looking faces.

He was nervous as he approached the front desk and it was clear the woman behind it understood that, because she initiated their conversation with ease.

Her dark curls fell into her face as she leaned forward to get his attention. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

His voice trembled slightly, and for a moment he wasn't sure how he'd managed to become so vulnerable between here and the car. "K-Kwon Jiyong."

She nods as she types in his name on the computer. She pulls her lip in between her teeth before she stands and grabs a folder with some papers in it. "Follow me, sweetheart."

Nodding, unable to do anything else, he did as he was told. He followed her up the dark stairs in silence, until they stop outside what Jiyong can only assume is an office. She knocks on it and opens the door when she hears a response from the inside.

This room was a vast difference from the lobby downstairs. The walls were a dark blue, contrasted by grey furniture and a white rug in the middle of the hard-wood floor. Plants line the windowsill across from the door, and pushed into a corner is a grey desk.

Behind it, a man Jiyong can only describe for now as _sharp_, looks up with a smile. "Ah, Sunjung, good to see you as always."

She smiles and hands him the folder. "Dr. Ryu, this is your 10 o'clock."

He takes it and returns her smile before turning to Jiyong. "Mr. Kwon, I presume. A pleasure to meet you."

His cheeks are hot as he shakes the older man's hand. "J-Just Jiyong is fine.."

Dr. Ryu nods and gives thanks to the woman- Sungjung- once again as she leaves. He gestures to the couches and Jiyong nervously rubs his hands together as he sits across from this man- this stranger. Their meeting starts off strong as the two of them just share general information with one another.

Dr. Ryu could tell from the moment Jiyong walked into the room that he was going to be an interesting patient. How interesting, he didn't know. So far, Jiyong didn't seem too far out of the ordinary, though he seemed incredibly hesitant to speak to him. That was normal, at least half of his patients were reluctant to talk at first, but after the first couple of sessions, it became a breeze.

Therapy was all about trust, and it didn't take long for it to become incredibly clear that Jiyong's trust issues were going to get in the way of that. It was clear that Jiyong definitely had some other issues too, he didn't even have to speak to make it clear. This was going to be difficult, it was clear, but they'd get through it.

Jiyong's second appointment started the same as it had the previous week, though this time he didn't seem so nervous to be there. It was almost as if his whole body was a clanched fist that finally relaxed once he walked through the door. He shook Dr. Ryu's hand and sat down on the couch.

It was a big step forward when Jiyong took his mask off. He'd kept it on for the entirety of their first meeting and Dr. Ryu didn't let it go lightly. He didn't let it go unnoticed.

"Very good, Jiyong. You're already making some progress here."

Jiyong nodded as he folded his mask and left it in his lap. "We're never going to get anywhere if I hide from you forever. You said it yourself."

Dr. Ryu crosses his legs and leans back in his chair with a smile Jiyong couldn't see past. "Do you remember what we talked about with the masks last week?"

Jiyong fiddles with his fingers and glances to his left before touching his knuckles to his cheek. "I can't rely on my mask forever... Not this one or... Or G-Dragon."

Dr. Ryu nods. It was good Jiyong was seeming to understand what he was doing to himself, hiding behind a mask all the time. He knew if he put the mask up with people like Chaerin, she'd never be able to truly help him. Though, maybe it's what he wanted.

Ryu wondered if Jiyong did it on purpose, because he doesn't want to be helped anymore. He shook his head. That was too deep of a question for right now. He could tell Jiyong was in a far different mood than he'd been the first time he'd come into the office, based only on how much shifting and fiddling Jiyong was doing today.

"How did you sleep last night, Jiyong?"

He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his blonde hair. He digs his nails into his dark roots and sighs. "I was up and down all night... I got maybe forty minutes, total."

"Have you always had problems sleeping?"

"With my job, sleeping can be difficult, yeah... But not like this, no, this is... It's only been like this one other time." He took the doctors silence as his cue to continue, so he does, fiddling with his fingers all the while. "I went through a... Really bad breakup, in um... In 2012 and uh... It put me down a bad path. I had a really bad drug problem back then."

"Did you ever seek rehabilitation?"

Jiyong shakes his head and watches the doctor write something down. "I never had the time. With my job, I never got the chance... I ended up, um... Having withdrawals on stage, in 2013, in front of, like, 700,000 people in Osaka."

"And what was that like?"

Jiyong laughs, but it's cold and empty and the sound is foreign to him as he forces it out of his body.

_Youngbae paced the dressing room as Jiyong cuddled the bucket to his sweating chest. His usual poof of hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, though he was insisting he could still go out and perform. Youngbae'd been saying for two days already that there was no way Jiyong was going to be able to perform with his mystery sickness getting to him._

_Seunghyun was out on the hallway and he was rather quiet despite supposedly being on the phone with Hyunsuk. Daesung and Seungri look more nervous with every passing minute- they've never seen Jiyong so sick and they saw him with the flu once. This was different, Youngbae knew. What it was, he didn't know._

_Seunghyun stepped back into the room, anger etched into his features. "He wants Jiyong on stage, anyways."_

_Youngbae threw a shirt at the wall in anger. "He can barely fucking stand! How is he supposed to perform, let alone anything else?!"_

_Jiyong sat up and threw up into the bucket for a second time, chest heaving as he did so. Seungri got closer and made sure Jiyong's hair was out of the way. Youngbae sighed, unaware of what was making Jiyong so sick suddenly. Seunghyun kept his distance, but his features softened every time he made eye contact with Jiyong._

_Half an hour before they were meant to be on stage, Seunghyun sat next to Jiyong and helped him change shirts. Neither of them thought it was a good idea with how sweaty he already was, but they were both sure that once the concert took off it wouldn't be too out of the ordinary for Jiyong to be sweating so bad. Jiyong leaned against his hyung with a sigh._

_"Should we tell them, Ji?" Seunghyun mumbles into Jiyong's ear._

_Jiyong quickly shakes his head and Seunghyun nods. He understands. He wouldn't want to tell people either if he were in Jiyong's position._

_Jiyong doesn't get any better as it gets closer to the time, he just gets better at hiding how horrible he feels. He gets his hair and makeup done as he's sitting on the couch and Seunghyun helps him dress when it's time. Jiyong's ready to go on stage, in fact he's excited. He isn't ready to be caught red-handed during his withdrawals, though._

_So he puts a lid on it. He does his best to put his emotions away and he does his best to make sure he isn't physically reacting as they make their way out onto the stage._

Even though he was just here this morning, his home feels foreign to him as he steps through the front door. Chaerin had finally left him, so now he was alone again. His heart was heavy with the cold silence of his home.

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he kicked his shoes off at the door. He lit a cigarette as he made his way into the kitchen, aimlessly wandering as he smoked. He needed something to do, really. Maybe he should call Hyunsuk and let him know he'd do the tour anyway.

He'd been fine to do it in the first place, and then he'd been talking. The words had spilled out of him and he never had a chance to stop himself until long after the words had left his mouth. He didn't know where the words had come from but he knew they weren't his.

He didn't want to hear Hyunsuk's gloating voice, so instead of calling he sent the man a text and tossed his phone onto the couch the moment he was done. He continued aimlessly wandering around his home until he was standing at his dresser, wordlessly digging through his top drawer. Did he really want to do this again?

He pulls the clear bag from the back of the drawer and sighs. The worst withdrawals of his life had come from this, did he really want to do it all over again? He supposes, he doesn't have to go through withdrawals if he manages to kill himself finally. That was the original plan, until Seunghyun had come along and quite literally saved his life.

He drops the bag onto the bed and paces the windows. Did he ever thank Seunghyun for what he'd done? Maybe they'd been even but that doesn't excuse never thanking him. He runs his fingers through his hair and curses to himself before laying on the floor next to the windows.

He swipes at the condensation with his finger and sighs. Resting his arm over his eyes, he resigns himself to having a nap. He's on the edges of sleep when he hears music in the distance. He uncovers his eyes and stares up at the ceiling as he tries to pinpoint the sound.

It's beautiful, wherever it is, and loud. It sounds a lot like a song he used to know, the more he listens. Each loud note of the piano music hits him like a blow to the chest as it begins to dawn on him.

Firstly, he _does_ know that song. Secondly, the music is coming from the living room.

Youngbae sighs as he sits down on the worn piano bench. He's not sure what to do anymore. There's nothing he can do to stop Jiyong from ruining his own life now. There's nothing any of them can do. He knows that without a doubt and it's eating him from the inside out.

Daesung leans against the wall, staring at Seunghyun. "You haven't spoken. What's going on?"

The eldest of the group shrugs. "I don't have anything to say."

"You must. You've been silent since your father came and- Oh. This is about-"

"Daesung, that's enough."

"-What Jiyong-hyung said to your father, right?"

Seunghyun sighs and hangs his head. From where he sits on the couch, he looks so small. He looks sad in a way neither of them have ever seen him and it's strange. Daesung normally knew Seunghyun like a well-read book, but not now.

Youngbae absently presses one of the keys. Seunghyun lets out a shaking breath. He wants to talk about it, he needs to, but won't. Not in front of Youngbae. He couldn't, he doesn't know how to put the words out in the same air as Youngbae. It's clear when Youngbae presses the keys in time with every moment Seunghyun opens his mouth to speak that he doesn't want Seunghyun to say the words either.

Seunghyun stops trying to speak the words out, finally, and Youngbae keeps playing the music until Jiyong himself is standing in the doorway to the livingroom, tears in his eyes and on his cheeks. Seunghyun thinks if he weren't already dead, the sight would make his heart skip beats or stop entirely. He casts his eyes downward to avoid Jiyong's gaze, but it's useless. Jiyong couldn't see him anyways.

"I'm dreaming," Jiyong sighs. "I must be... Right?"

Seunghyun stifles a smile with his palm. Jiyong sits next to him on the couch and fiddles with his fingers. It's such a familiar sight he wants to cry, though he refuses. Jiyong turns his eyes to the empty room around him.

"What's going on around here?"

Seunghyun looks up and Daesung and Youngbae are gone, leaving just he and Jiyong together on the couch. They're so close their knees are nearly touching. Seunghyun wants to touch their knees together, but he knows Jiyong will only feel cold, if anything.

"Don't ask me anything, Jiyong... I can't give you an answer." He sighs. "I wish I could, truly. It looks like you'll have to figure this one out on your own."


	21. Chapter 20 // "I must not have been enough."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> took a short break again. are you guys ready for the holidays?
> 
> also, het smut (kinda) warning again.

Jiyong's leg bounces out of his control. It's been going the whole time he's sat at the couch, and he's been sitting there for several hours now. He'd sat, staring at the piano for hours on end. Ever since he heard the music coming from it earlier, and he swears he heard it.

He knows he was sober, so there's no excuse for hearing it if it wasn't real. It had to be real, right? There's no way he could make it up, right?

He closes his eyes. Dr. Ryu would tell him it's perfectly reasonable to think he heard the piano playing music. He would say that his mind was making things up to make the transition easier for him, even though that was bullshit. Hearing your piano playing the music of your dead ex-lover while you're home alone isn't comforting in the slightest.

He rolls his eyes as he reaches for his cigarettes on the nightstand. He thinks he must be an alien or something to still have so much lung power after smoking so much. He thinks his lungs could collapse tomorrow and that'd be just fine by him. He lights a cigarette with his eyes closed.

Just as he begins thinking that he needs time away from this house, his phone rings on the nightstand. With his eyes still closed, he answers it and holds it to his ear, grunting into the receiver as a greeting.

"I haven't heard from you in a minute... Thought you might've died."

He quickly shoots upright in bed, eyes still closed. "Heonae." He pulls his cigarette from between his lips and before he can stop it, he feels a smile playing on them. "Where are you?"

There's a giggle from the other end and he feels his smile widen as he pulls a drag from his cigarette. "You should come over."

He finally opens his eyes to put his cigarette out. "Yea? I'll be there."

Getting out of the house was a little difficult, but thankfully, one of Hyunsuk's guards seemed to take pity when Jiyong said a girl was waiting for him. From there, it was a breeze getting to where he needed to be. He was thankful to know he wasn't being followed when he bought cigarettes and drugs on the same street corner.

The dealer he used to buy from was so surprised to see him there, he was convinced he was seeing a ghost. Jiyong himself was sure he'd died to be back here again. He hadn't been in this area in years, and it was stressful to think about being here regularly once again.

Then again, he was untouchable here. He had loads of money, so getting hold of the drugs was never the problem. They'd never rat him out because they knew what he could do, and what he'd done. But even they knew he wasn't the same person he used to be. Now, he might just be worse, just for the sole fact that he didn't have anything to lose anymore.

Heonae's house was decent. She was a doctor, after all, she could afford the lavish life she seemed to be living. There was a box of dusty children's toys on her porch step. Jiyong stepped around it and into the home.

He discarded his coat and kicked off his shoes next to what looked like another man's shoes. Jiyong brushes it aside, assuming they must be a pair of her ex's... She mentioned something about him once, but now he can't remember what.

He calls out into the home, already lost in her world before she's even been seen. She emerges, from what he thinks has to be the kitchen, with a smile. She greets him with a kiss on the cheek that pulls the blood to the skin. From behind his back, he produces flowers for her, and it's her turn to blush, for the first time in his presence.

She wasn't like most women he knew. She didn't get flustered, and she wasn't quiet, and he loved it. He loved the way she complimented him. She was the gas to his flame, even though what he really needed was an extinguisher.

There was something nagging at him. The longer he spent in the house, the worse it got, but he couldn't place it. All he could feel was the overwhelming sense that something was missing. There was something that was meant to be in this house, and whatever it was, it's absence bothered Jiyong on a whole other level.

He ventured through the home with her permission as she finished the dinner she'd been working on when she called him. Whatever he couldn't find was making the hair on his neck stand up and it was bothering the shit out of him that he couldn't figure it out yet. It unsettled him to the point that his hands were shaking.

It made him nervous to the point he'd lost whatever appetite he'd had before. Instead of hunger, fear sat in the pit of his stomach, and it grew until it was bigger than he was. It surrounded him, and everything felt small, and dark. His chest felt tight.

He reached out to the wall for balance, and there he found it. Heonae had pictures all over the walls of her home. Family photos, photography, the lot. It felt like a slap to the face. The answer had been staring him down since he entered the home.

In all of these photos, on all of these walls, not a single one of them held Heonae's daughter.

Jiyong was lost. This much was true. He was lost in the drugs and he was lost in her, in the only form of distraction he could make for himself. There's music in the background, and he's sure it's been on repeat since they came into the bedroom, but he can't focus on the words. It's a beat he can feel in his chest with how loud she has it, and it's a voice something in him is pulled towards, but every time he gets closer to it the drugs pull him back.

He's lost in her, once again. He was lost in the way the lights shined on the sweat on her naked skin, and he was lost in the heat of her all over him. She was a drug in and of herself, and he was becoming addicted to her. That has to be the reason for his recent mild obsession with her, he thinks, as she moans and it pangs through his chest before it reaches anywhere else.

It has to be the drugs, he thinks, as for the first time he doesn't try to find a memory of Youngbae in her, and instead, just sees her in all of her glory. It's drugs, or it's madness, he thinks, as kissing her makes his hands shake. It has to be, as fucking her is the best he's felt in weeks.

She laces her fingers in his hair- it's getting too long now- and he's gone again.

The moment the drugs wear off, it hits him like a ton of bricks. His whole body hurts and the music doesn't make it any better as he forces himself up from the bed, sheet wrapped around his waist as he moves to turn it off. Youngbae's voice abruptly stops it's flow through the speakers as he turns to face her.

"Why would you play that?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

She smiles, but it's another one of those fake smiles that Jiyong knows too well. Either she's not trying to hide it or she's just poor at it, but he can feel that somewhere inside of her, there's a monster. "I just like that song a lot. I didn't think it'd be a problem."

He knows he's feeding into her own addiction as his chest begins to heave, but he can't stop himself from speaking. "You didn't think it'd be a problem?! You're the fucking problem, Heonae! You know what he..."

"What he meant to you? Stop being so goddamn hung up on him, Jiyong. He wasn't yours at the end, if he was ever even yours in the first place. You know that, so what the fuck is stopping you from moving on?"

She sits up, sheet falling as she pulls herself out of the bed and crosses the room. She stands in front of him, naked, but still definitely the one in charge as she crosses her arms. "It didn't seem so hard for you when you were having sex with me, you know? It seemed pretty easy for you then."

"Blame it on the drugs."

She sighs. "You never fucked me sober, have you? Well, I think we should change that."

The bewilderment on his face seems to be clear to her, because she laughs. "Oh come on, you're not going to let that music stunt stop you, are you? After everything? I've done a lot worse than playing a dead man's music for you."

He shakes his head and takes a step back. Her presence is overwhelming and she smells like sex and sweat and it's too much for him. "What was her name?"

Now, it's clear to him, finally, that he's got the upperhand. Her eyes dart towards his shoulder before they focus on his face again. "What?"

"Her name? You never told me."

She's silent, and it's clear just how much power he has now. "See, we both know Youngbae is the line for me, and it's becoming rather evident that she's the line for you too."

She clenches her jaw, and it's like a switch inside of him. He reaches up and grabs her by the chin. "So I'll make a deal with you. Tell me her name."

"What do I get out of it?"

He smirks, and it's all so foreign to him, but he's already too far in to stop. "We'll never speak their names to one another again."

"Hyeon. Now, fuck me again."

He wakes with a pounding headache in his own bed, with no recollection of how he got there, but a name on his lips. He calls out into the dusty air of his empty home and sighs. His limbs are heavy with sleep as he forces himself out of the bed and into the real world of the kitchen. He pulls on a heavy coat to try and combat the cold in his hands and heart as he starts the coffee.

He stands to watch it brew for a moment before making his way towards the shower. The water stings his body. Partly from the cold and partly from whatever the hell had been done to him last night at Heonae's home. Their activities were a distant memory to him, the only evidence the marks she'd left on his chest with her teeth. He brushes his fingers over them, a smile playing on his lips once more.

His morning mostly consists of that, until the walls start to close in around two. His saving grace, the lack of guards outside his home. He slips out into the world, with no desire to return.

He doesn't have any destination in mind as he walks. He simply allows himself to be carried farther and farther from his home, even as the cold air seeps into his skin and then his bones. His phone rings in his coat pocket and he trips over himself to answer it. Chaerin.

He tries not to let the clatter of his teeth get too loud, because all he wants her to hear is how much he misses her already. She asks him about his therapy and he tells her it's going well, because it is. She asks him about being at home without her, and he pauses.

Finally, he decides to tell her the truth. "I don't like it... Without you... Without them, it's just too big. I need something smaller."

"That's perfectly okay, Jiyong. When I come back we can go look together, yeah?"

He nods, fully aware that she can't see him. She understands, she always has. "You haven't just been sitting inside all day, have you?"

He pauses again. He doesn't want to say yes, but he doesn't want to say no either. He doesn't want to say that other than right now, and his stint to Heonae's home last night, he'd been sitting inside his home in the dark. But he doesn't want to say that he'd been to Heonae's last night, either.

She takes his silence as the only real answer she needs, and she sighs. "Where are you headed to, today?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm just kinda..."

"Wandering. You know that may not be a good idea."

"I need out of the house. I need something to do, and I need somewhere to go that keeps me away from Hyunsuk."

He finds himself in a bar, shortly after hanging up his call with Chaerin. He's not sure why he's come here, as he's not so sure he wants to be drinking so early. Dr. Ryu said it's not a good idea to drink so much anymore. There's nagging voices in the back of his mind that tell him don't, but he ignores them in favor of a glass anyway.

It doesn't take long before one glass turns into four and he's stopping to buy cigarettes yet again. He buys several packs at once before starting on his journey home. He leaves with the intention of going straight there, but he makes a pit stop at Heonae's house. It makes his hands shake. He's not drunk by any means, but the buzz is creeping into his veins as he rings the bell.

She opens the door and closes it tighter around her body when she realizes it's him, but she still smiles. "Jiyong! Didn't expect to see you out and about so early! What brings you here?"

He stutters, but he smiles all the same. "I just wanted to see you... Wanted to see if maybe you'd... Wanna go out? Sometime? I-It seems like we only see one another at the houses, and I-I don't know, it might be nice to get out and-"

"I'd love to. Let's get dinner?"

"Yeah? Yeah! That sounds nice... Uh, ton-"

"Tomorrow night. I'll text you where, and you meet me there, yeah?"

He nods, a blush evident in his cheeks as he steps a little closer. She closes the door behind her but initiates the hug, which he appreciates. It's nice to hold her like this, he thinks, as she kisses his jaw. She sticks her hand into his pocket and then she pulls away with a wider smile than before.

He watches her go back inside before leaving. He lights a cigarette before he's even left the porch. In his pocket, the leftover drugs from last night.

Jiyong crawls into bed around three, stumbling with his lit cigarette as he goes. He's high as shit, it's clear and Youngbae's been fighting the urge to fight him since eleven. He watches Jiyong lay down, head on the pillow on the side of the bed he never sleeps on, and smile. He's been smiling an awful lot, lately.

Youngbae's happy to see him smiling again, but he's terrified it's all for the wrong reasons. He doesn't want these drugs to become a constant for Jiyong again, but he knows they will. He didn't know he'd feel so much after death, and it's worrying to him. If anything Seungri's said is true, then he needs to be careful of his feelings.

_"I don't follow, Ri, what the hell does any of that mean, in you know- English?" Daesung sighs, scratching his eyebrow._

_Seungri, who'd been going on for nearly an hour, sighs. "Remember when we talked about how Jiyong could hear us? If we get emotional?"_

_Daesung nods and leans against the couch, where Jiyong's been passed out for a good two hours._

_"Well, this is kinda the same thing. You're expelling the energy of your emotions. Crying, yelling. Anger, sadness. They take energy. So... When Daesung cries, when Youngbae yells... When Seunghyun..."_

_"What? Broods?" Daesung sighs._

_"Yes, that too. Your emotions... If you let them get too strong... They'll consume you. Your feelings are what you'll become. If you let them get out of hand they will control you and turn you into something other than yourself. I'm an angel, I don't have that same problem... But you guys, _have_ to be careful."_

Daesung sighs as for the third time in two days he has to pry a lit cigarette from between the fingers of Jiyong's sleeping frame. He puts it out in the ashtray and sighs as he pulls the covers up over his hyung. He gets dizzy almost instantly and falls back against Seunghyun. His hyung catches him before he can fall and gently lowers him down to the floor.

They sit there together for a long time and watch as Youngbae leans against Jiyong's headboard. They all just watch him sleep for a while, waiting for the inevitable. It hurts to watch, but there's never any stopping it.

It started with Jiyong's eyebrows knitting together. Then he'd cry out, quietly, then again, louder. Then he'd shake in his sleep and flail, knocking his knuckles into the wood of the end-tables, then again into his own face. He turns onto his side and gets tangled into the covers as he buries his face into his pillow. The screaming starts soon after- then he's awake and the screaming turns into sobs.

The nightmare is over as quickly as it began, but the aftermath lasts hours at a time. They do the only thing they can-watch. They watch as Jiyong shakes and screams and cries into his pillow until he runs himself so ragged he can't breathe anymore. He cries until he's all dried up and there's no more tears left in him to cry, and he lays there until he's worn himself down so much his only other option is to pass out once more.


	22. Chapter 21 // "I want time to stop like this."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the song heonae had playing in the last chapter was Taeyang's 1am.
> 
> also slightly graphic drugs

Jiyong flicked his cigarette ashes onto the floor. He pulls a random letter of Youngbae's out from the stack and sighs. He's avoided reading them without Chaerin around, but he can't find it in him to ignore them any longer.

He takes a shaking breath and puts his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe before sitting up finally. He decides to read aloud to the empty air of his living room, thinking it might make it easier to take the words in that way.

"My darling, Jiyong. I don't know what to say to you at this point, but my mother says I should try my best to write something to you. Anything that might explain anything you might not understand. Anything to help you through what's probably going to be a really rough patch in your life... As I'm writing this, I can hear you crying in our bedroom while you pack your things. I've told you that you can have the apartment, but you refuse to stay here without me. I'm going to sell it once you're gone. I refuse to live here without you. I can't do it, because even now, all I can think about is all the time we've shared in this kitchen I'm sitting in. All I can think about is making you breakfast and watching you smile, but instead, you're crying in the other room. You've been crying for hours now. I'll be surprised if you don't lose your voice with all of the crying and screaming you've done today."

He sighs and fights the urge to drop the paper into the fireplace. He remembers this day like it was yesterday because it was the day that changed him completely in a matter of hours. This had been one of the worst days of his entire life. Now, the other side of the story was sitting in his hands. These are the words he'd wanted to hear for so long, and here they were, so why didn't he want to read them?

His hands trembled as he leaned farther into the couch. If he read these words, there'd be no going back from whatever they'd say. The truth that sits in his hands would be in his mind forever. Did Youngbae take it nearly as hard as he did? If the first letter was anything to go from, then maybe he took it a little hard, but did he take it _that_ hard? Did he get anywhere close to being as bad as he was?

Jiyong hopes that the answer is no because after putting himself through that, there's no way he wouldn't notice the same thing happening in Youngbae. Right? Is it possible that Youngbae could go through something that way and Jiyong wouldn't have noticed because of his own state? He's suddenly got more questions than he ever had before.

"Daesung and I have already made plans to go drinking tonight, but I've neglected to tell him why. Maybe I will, someday. I don't think today is that day. Maybe for his sake more than my own. The less anyone else knows, the better. I know you feel the same. I know you'll most likely go to Chaerin, and I know you'll most likely close yourself off in the close future. I've never wanted to do this to you, but I've done everything I could... I don't know what I'm going to do without you, but I hear you coming this way, so I'll continue this later."

He remembers walking into the kitchen that day and seeing Youngbae there, seemingly unaffected. He'd just been writing, and the second he'd seen Jiyong there, he'd covered the used paper with something blank. Now he knows why. He can't figure out why Youngbae wouldn't just tell him, though. It's tearing him apart that Youngbae felt the need to go through this pain all alone.

But maybe he wasn't alone. He'd mentioned Daesung once already, so he'd at least had someone, right? But, did he ever tell him?

Jiyong puts the paper down and sighs. He pushes himself up from the couch and listens to his bones crack in protest of the movement. He needs to keep himself moving, even if just for a moment. He can't hold still, or he'll just get stuck again. He scratches his arm and he knows he's screwed. The cravings have hit and he knows he only has two options.

One: shoot up now and possibly sleep through his date tonight. Or two: put it off until after and hopefully avoid withdrawals.

Neither option sounded especially appealing, so while he debated, he forced himself to take a walk around the house. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and he couldn't figure out why he was so fucking cold all the time. The house was at least 23°C and yet, here he was, shivering.

Youngbae had been stuck to Jiyong's side like glue for most of the day. Every time Jiyong started to cry, Youngbae'd wiped his tears away. He wouldn't leave his side. Youngbae couldn't figure out why Jiyong had been so cold either, it was driving him nuts.

"Is it the drugs? Is that why he's so cold?"

"Could be withdrawals." Daesung sighs as he leans against a wall opposite Jiyong.

"Could be because the two of you are standing so close," Seungri mutters from down the hall.

Daesung looks up with a furrow to his brow before it seems to dawn on him and he immediately backs away from Jiyong. Youngbae still seemed not to understand what his presence had to do with Jiyong being so cold. Daesung grabbed his arm and pulled him just a couple of steps away. Immediately, the goosebumps on his arms disappeared and he seemed relieved.

"He can feel the energy... The cold. If you keep smothering him, he'll freeze."

Youngbae seemed to understand, but it didn't stop him from staying close to Jiyong. Daesung realized rather quickly there was nothing he could do to stop him, so he just let him be. Nothing was going to stop him at this point, so he'd just have to figure it out the hard way.

The solution to his problem, Jiyong decided when he'd seen how early in the day it was, was to shoot up. He made quick work of it, studded belt wrapped tightly around his upper arm. He presses down on the plunger and in one swift movement delivers the whole dose to himself. He holds the syringe between his teeth as he undoes the belt.

The second the belt is off, he allows himself to fully rest his weight on the wall he'd been sitting against, and before he knows it he's passing out upright.

_ Jiyong sat up in the bed he shared with Youngbae. He couldn't shake the overwhelming idea that this was a dream. The apartment was awash with golden light of the late afternoon sun. This setting felt far too familiar to him as he walked out into the hall._

_The faint smell of food in the kitchen caught him off-gaurd. This could be one of many days they shared together._

_Youngbae looked stunning in the light, as always. His hair was pushed back from his face in the way Jiyong loved and it made his heart swell._

_When Youngbae turned around, it was like Jiyong was finally awake from a horrible dream. He'd finally returned home after a long day at work. He felt like he belonged somewhere, for the first time in so long. Stepping into Youngbae's arms was the most amazing thing he could do._

_They stood there like that for a long time, just basking in the light from the kitchen window, and Jiyong never wanted to leave Youngbae's arms again._

_"Ji... I need to talk to you."_

_Jiyong's heart skipped a beat. _No. Not this one. Not this day. Not again.__

_The words leave him before he can say anything else. "You can talk to me about anything, Sun, you know that."_

_He sits himself at the table and watches as Youngbae sits across from him. There's several long moments of silence as Youngbae tries to collect his thoughts and his words. The second he thinks this may be a prank, that Youngbae may say something eloquent and romantic, Youngbae blurts out the words Jiyong would give anything to never hear._

_"I think it's time for us to break up."_

_The air between them is tense as the shock seeps into Jiyong's heart. He swallows his words down but soon they're coming back up anyways. "You're joking, right?"_

__He's not joking, Jiyong. You know that. You always knew that.__

_"No... I'm not."_

_Jiyong blinked to try and stop the tears from coming but it was impossible. "I-What did I do?"_

_Youngbae clenched his jaw, the tell-tale sign he was trying to hide his emotions, then he sighed. "Nothing. You did nothing. It's me."_

__Keep your cool before you say things you don't mean.__

_Jiyong stood up from the table so quickly that his chair slid backward. The noise was almost enough to shock him out of whatever hell he thought he was in, but when the sound was over he was still here, having this discussion with Youngbae anyway. This was his hell._

_"Bullshit!" He managed to yell. "Tell me the truth, damn you!"_

_Youngbae didn't move. He didn't even look up from the table, but his jaw clenched once again. "Fine. It's you, are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear, Jiyong?"_

_"What did I do?"_

_Youngbae finally stood and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've just finally come to my senses. This isn't what I want. You're not what I want."_

_Jiyong thinks, if he wasn't already in the middle of some form of crying, it would have started right then and there, because he knew exactly what Youngbae meant. This couldn't be real, his Sun would never say something like that. Something was wrong._

_"What's gotten into you?"_

_"Nothing. Like I said, I'm just finally coming to terms with this not being what I want. I want a family, and that's not happening with you."_

_The sadness was quickly buried within him the moment the words had left Youngbae. He felt more foolish than anything. "Fine. You know what, fine."_

_He couldn't find any more words than that as he stepped into the hallway and grabbed one of his empty bags from the closet. He started in the living room, throwing his things into the bag in silence. His chest heaved with every item he put into the bag, until he couldn't take it anymore. He walked right up to Youngbae and shoved him as hard as he could. "Fuck you!"_

_"Jiyong-"_

_"No, fuck you! You don't just wake up one morning and decide to end things like that! That's shit you have to think about, so fuck you! Fuck you, and fuck whatever your problem is! If I didn't love you, Youngbae, I'd smack the fuck out of you right now for this!" He yelled. He couldn't hold it back anymore. The idea of them laying together in bed, and him being completely in love while Youngbae was thinking of breaking up with him only made it worse._

_"I think you're overreacting."_

_Youngbae's cool tone just grinds on Jiyong's nerves even more and before he can stop himself he's shoving Youngbae again. "Fuck you! You don't get to fucking tell me how to react! You don't get to tell me how to fucking feel about this! Fuck you for trying! You let me sit here every fucking day, more in love with you than the last, and then you tell me I'm fucking overreacting when you break my fucking heart?!"_

_He moves to shove Youngbae once more, but the older man makes it clear that he's had enough when he grabs Jiyong's wrists. The tension rises and Youngbae looks gorgeous but that's not going to fix anything this time. Jiyong yanks himself away before storming down the hall to pack in his bedroom._

  
He woke with a start, a scream tearing it's way through his lips before he could silence the noise. His chest heaved as he forced himself out of bed and onto the floor. It was cold. It was always cold in this fucking house now, no matter how much he bundled up, he was always freezing.

Slowly, he managed to power through the cold and force himself into the shower. The hot water stung so bad he was close to tears the moment it hit his skin. This had to stop. It had to be this house, it's the only explanation he could find. He didn't have time to dwell on it now though, he had a date to get ready for and he'd be damned if he missed it.

He was nervous. He hadn't been on a real date in so many years he was praying to whatever God was out there that this all went smoothly. Getting ready wasn't hard once his brain had gone on autopilot.

Realizing he still had plenty of time with his day, several hours at least, he sighed. He didn't want to get dressed just to sit around, so he decided, maybe it was time to add some color to his messy hair. His roots took most of the space now, grown out long enough for the two-tone to annoy him. He sends a few messages and he's on his way within minutes.

He's up and moving the moment he receives Heonae's text message. There's a long moment of hesitation over which car to take, but he ultimately decides to take his own, thinking about what Youngbae said to him in the letter. He shakes his thoughts of Youngbae away as he picks up flowers.

He's not sure she'll like them, because she's not like the other girls he's dated before, but it's always the thought that counts. The restaurant they meet at is one he's been to several times before. More with Daesung and Chaerin than anyone else.

He's not sure where to look for her in the fully packed restaurant, but it's impossible for him to miss her the second his eyes manage to land on her. He's sure he's out of breath and he's sure she's taken it out of him without even doing anything because she looks nicer than ever and suddenly being here doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

She's cleaned up so nicely he almost can't tell if they're the same woman, but when she looks up and smiles at the sight of him, he's sure she's the same. One foot in front of the other, he finally makes his way across the room to her. He holds the flowers out to her with a smile, and there's something in her eyes that he can't place as she takes them with a smile.

He sits down across from her and takes the time to take in her presence. She's absolutely stunning and the dress she's wearing hugs her body in a way he can't get over. He's thinking about how nice it is to be here with a normal person for once- not a celebrity, just a regular person.

They're laughing in no time, telling each other stories of former failed dates. Then they're sharing food from each other's plates and pouring Soju for one another. It's nice, spending the evening this way. Even though they're talking about it, he can't remember the last date he went on, but he thinks it must have been quite some time before he and Youngbae ever split.

It's going so well, he thinks as she holds his hand from across the table. This is the warmest he's felt in days, both inside and out, until the goosebumps start on the top of his hand. He tries to convince himself that it's because of his attraction to her that he's got goosebumps, until they start travelling up his arm and towards his shoulder.

Maybe ignoring it will make it go away, whatever it is.

"So, it's actually kinda funny that we're here tonight." He says softly over dessert.

She smiles, and wipes whipped cream off of her lower lip. "Oh? Why's that?"

He bites his lip. He hopes she doesn't freak out, but then again, why would she? They're not a couple, they're barely friends. "I'm leaving for a tour in about a week? And I'll be gone maybe a month, but, this is the last free night I'll have for a long time..."

"I'm glad I got to spend it with you." She says softly, no hint of anger or malice in her voice.

He smiles and scoots forward in his chair. "I was wondering if... Maybe you'd wanna come visit me on tour? Maybe if you get a couple of days off I can fly you to wherever I am."

"That's a lot of effort to go through for someone you're not dating." He knows it's a joke, but suddenly he's so insecure about the idea that he wants to run and hide. He's only deterred from the idea by her tightening her grip on his hand. "But I accept. It'd be nice to see some of the world with you if I get the chance, but that means you'll have to keep in touch with me, yeah?"

"I'll call you whenever you want."

"It'll take a lot of coordination, you know? Conflicting work schedules, time zones..." She sighs, but she smiles. "Sounds like fun."

The only thought on his mind when they parted ways that night? What the hell did he get himself into?


	23. Chapter 22 // "I acted like I didn't know."

Two days after Halloween, Jiyong was throwing his bags into the back of one of Hyunsuk's cars. This wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it most likely wouldn't ever be the last time, either. However, nobody had watched him leave like this since the first tour he'd ever been on. His mother had watched him go then, but every tour after that he'd gone to see her before leaving.

This time, she was here again. She was here to watch him leave on his first tour alone. Truly, alone. His first tour without them. They were gone, but she was here, and this was the first time he'd seen her since long before it happened. She never showed up unannounced, rarely came uninvited. Jiyong needed Jiyong's space, and if anyone knew that it was her.

If he were telling the truth, he'd say he'd been avoiding his mother. He'd been avoiding her calls and her texts, letting them ring out and go unread for hours, maybe days at a time. He'd been postponing their visits, always claiming too busy or too tired.

It was barely a surprise to him when she showed up on his doorstep this morning after he'd finally told her he was going on another tour. She'd begun to protest, at the early hour of 2:47 in the morning, but she'd dropped it just as quickly as she'd picked it up when she'd seen his face. She'd seen through him as easily as ever and saw the anger and sadness and fear in his face before he'd ever even had the chance to hide it.

She'd spoken to him all morning, quiet in volume and soft in tone. She'd spoken to him this time, just like the first time. Only this time, she wasn't quiet because there were other people around to hear her. She was quiet because it's what he needed from her. He needed something kind, something quiet for the time being before he was thrown back into the loud chaos.

The world waiting for him was not the same world he'd left. Those places and the people that lived there had felt some tragic loss that could only be found in Jiyong's eyes. He carried their sadness in his heart, and he'd do anything to take it from them all if he could. He protected them, even now. He'd seen their deaths, or at least in Daesung's case, the swift aftermath.

He'd never let them see that part of the tragedy. If he could help it, he'd never tell them, either. He hadn't told anyone. He hadn't told his mother, or his therapist, or Chaerin. He was holding it all inside and one day it'd break him, he knew, but that day wasn't today.

He hugged her for the first time in a long time and listened to her shuddering breath. She hugged him back and it was somehow gentle and strong all at once. She wanted to comment on how thin he felt, or how she could feel his ribs against her arm, but she said nothing about it. She wanted to ask if he was eating, or if he was using, but she couldn't form the words past her tears to watch him go again, alone.

They both knew he was never truly alone before. He'd always had someone to call, someone to talk to, someone that would listen to him that wasn't her. This time, he didn't have that. Not really. He had her, and he had Chaerin. With both women having such busy schedules, it'd be nearly impossible for him to reach them at a reasonable time.

She worried for him, probably more than he realized, as he climbed into the car. The women in his life were always so busy, and she blames herself for that. She was busy long before he was famous, and she felt that set him up to gravitate towards busy women that didn't have the time for him.

He waved to her through the window as he fished a cigarette out from his pocket. His phone had been going off like crazy all morning, and he'd been able to ignore it until the car finally pulled away from the curb.

He'd been flooded with texts and Twitter notifications, and it was almost overwhelming to do this again. He responded to some texts, Chaerin mostly, but some others too. Twitter was a whole other beast to be slain at a later date. Most of the notifications were the regular mentions and likes, but others were VIP's getting excited to tell him they'd gotten tickets to their shows- his shows.

The ride to the airport was filled with liking Tweets and trying to imagine that the others are waiting for him.

They were waiting for him, in a way, as the car stopped outside of the airport. Seungri looked uneasy for the first time since long before his death and Daesung was stuck to his side like glue. They were nervous for him, to say the least. He'd had a week of prep for this tour and very little sleep.

Sure, Jiyong could fall asleep anywhere if need be, but staying asleep was a whole other story now. This, they knew all too well, and they weren't particularly excited to watch him struggle for the several long months of this tour. They could see he was different already because even with nobody around to prove anything to, Jiyong still wasn't himself. He was a pale imitation at best. A mask.

They watched as he all but fell into his seat and instantly began curling into himself. He looked so small as his eyes trailed over all of the empty seats the four of them would normally occupy. They watched him fiddle with his phone for a long time before opening up his messages to their group chat.

He sighed and put his phone down, only to pick it right back up and start typing. They watched him send it, and then they watched him wait for a response even though he knew it wouldn't happen. It'd already been months since they died, but it was clear that sometimes he couldn't stop himself.

It was clear that Jiyong was at least somewhat serious about therapy, with the way he'd insisted to Hyunsuk that he'd fly back for his appointments. They'd argued about it for a moment, but Jiyong simply told him that if therapy was going to be a problem then he'd just quit so he could focus on himself, and that'd shut Hyunsuk up faster than they'd ever seen before.

Jiyong had taken the time to warn his close personal team about his sleeping troubles, and alerted them to the fact that it's most likely he'll wake up screaming and scared, and unsure of where he is. He made sure to ask them if they can't avoid the situation, to please be patient with him while he tries to compose himself. They'd all been very kind about it.

He kept that in mind as he curled farther into his seat. It was going to be a long plane ride, so he may as well try and sleep while he waits to land. He texts Chaerin just as they begin to take off and turns his phone off for the night.

_He opened his eyes and coughed at the dust in the room. He could hear children laughing somewhere in the distance, but he wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing here. He turns, staring at the pews around him in confusion. A church?_

_"Jiyongi, my head hurts." A familiar voice grumbles from behind him. A head leans on his shoulder and when he looks down, Daesung is staring back at him._

_"I have some painkillers in my car." He says, passing Daesung a set of keys he's never seen before._

_The younger man takes them with a grateful smile as the kids all run back into the room, running around the two of them to avoid running into either of them._

_When his eyes focus on Daesung's coat is when he realizes when and where he must be. "Daesung, don't go out there!"_

_Daesung stops and Jiyong nearly vomits at the sight of blood on his face. "You already know how this ends, Jiyong. There's no point in trying to change it."_

_"Why am I here?" He cries, but the kids pay no mind as he begins to feel a rumble beneath his feet._

_"This is your dream, Ji... You tell me." Daesung turns around and takes a couple of steps backward. "Why are we here?"_

_Jiyong looks around to find Youngbae, only to realize he must be here in Youngbae's place. "To... To see it... To see what happened to Youngbae."_

_There's a smile on Daesung's lips, but it looks sad as he turns and continues to walk out of the door. The rumbling picks up and Jiyong- Youngbae- panics. He grabs the children and does the only thing he can think to do. They struggle, the shaking knocks them off balance, but he manages with just his willpower to get the children beneath the tables in the next room._

_His heart is hammering rapidly against his chest as he tries to go back to the first room, just to be sure he didn't miss anyone. Part of the ceiling has already fallen in, so he climbs it to try and get a better view, and then he hears something else above him crackling. He doesn't have the time to look up._

Jiyong wakes easily, a scream tearing through him as he claws at the pain in his abdomen. His cheeks are already streaked with tears as he yanked his shirt up to reveal nothing but his own scarred skin. There were people at his side in less than the seconds it took him to pull his mask back on.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He whispered to whoever might be closest. It happened to be Jaeho, which might've been worse if he hadn't seen Jiyong go through things like this multiple times.

He'd been there, almost constantly at Jiyong's side for such a long time. He'd seen Jiyong wake from worse nightmares than this one, but no matter how many times he saw this side of him, he'd never be prepared for the way it tugged on his heart to see Jiyong this way. Nothing would ever prepare him for the ache in his chest when Jiyong looked up at him with such sad eyes.

"You don't have to apologize, okay? It happens."

Jiyong shakes his head quickly and reaches a shaking hand out for Jaeho's shoulder, squeezing it tightly to try and regain some of himself. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry... I couldn't- I tried to, but I couldn't..."

"Make a fist and take a breath, Jiyong. I'll wait."

He focuses everything that he has on doing what he was told. It takes him just a beat too long to do either of the things he was tasked with, but he manages to do both. Once he manages to breathe for just a moment, he wipes his face. "I tried to save them... I tried to save them all, and I was too late for all of them... I watched three of them die, and the other one was gone before I even got to him..."

Jaeho suddenly begins wondering why this tour was set up so early in the first place. He's wondering why this man before him, sad and broken with the loss of the men that'd become family to him, was being forced to do such a thing when he was still heavy with grief. Jiyong could barely get his hands to his face, he was being weighed down so heavily.

The sadness made him slouch forward, curled in on himself like he were nothing more than a scolded child. He looked smaller than Jaeho had ever seen him, and he'd seen him addicted to drugs, whether he knew it then or not. "Jiyong, it's not your fault, okay? You did absolutely everything you could. You did everything right. It's not your fault."

The gentility and kindness he was hearing were too much for him to bear, emotionally. Ever since the press conference, his social media had been full of people making the comments that kept him up at night. His Twitter was full of things ranging from _why not you?_ to things like _I bet you had something to do with it_ and every time he saw one it made it harder and harder to breathe.

He didn't know how he'd do this tour alone. He'd never been able to do it alone, not even when he'd toured for himself the first time. The boys had come to see him, he'd called one of them almost every day. They were there. Now they weren't.

And it hurt like hell.

To watch Jiyong check into a hotel on his own was a harrowing ordeal, to say the least. Gone was the man that'd always run ahead of the group and made himself at home on the bed or the couch. In his place was a man far different from the Jiyong any of them had ever known. They realized rather quickly that they'd never seen this side of him, not truly.

This was Jiyong at his rawest form, and it was dark. Daesung watched him drop his bag inside the door and cross the room, passing straight out onto the balcony. The cold air filled the room as Jiyong lit a cigarette. It was so late, Jiyong really should be trying to sleep at this rate. He hadn't tried to sleep after whatever he'd dreamt of on the plane.

Youngbae looked nervous, then again, he always did. Seunghyun still hadn't said a word. His silence was cutting Daesung deeper with each passing hour.

It was finally breaking him down the point he'd begun begging Youngbae to speak to him when their hyung wasn't around. He thought he might finally be getting through to Youngbae... Until Youngbae'd caught Seunghyun staring at Jiyong on the plane. In just seconds it felt like Daesung's weeks of progress had been set all the way back to the start and he wanted to cry.

Until once Jiyong had finally laid down, he watched Youngbae approach Seunghyun. He wanted to sit with them, but Seungri said no.

Youngbae sat on the coffee table in front of Seunghyun, making sure there was absolutely no way he could be ignored. It wasn't hard to get the older man's attention now, it's not like they had much else to do but sit around and talk to one another.

"I'm sorry, hyung... I had no right to treat you the way I've been treating you as of late and I hope you can forgive me. I acted like I didn't know..." He waves his hand as he tries to find the right words. "How you felt, and maybe still feel about him, and it's not fair of me. I've shut you down each time you've tried to talk about it, and it's shut you down altogether... But I'm here to apologize and if you still want to talk about it, I'm willing to listen now."

When all he gets is more silence, he rises to leave. His motions are only stopped when Seunghyun grabs him by the sleeve of his jacket. Youngbae smiles, small, but genuine as he sits back down.

"Tell me everything, hyung."

"I've had feelings for him for a long time... I don't know where they started and I don't know where they'll end... I know that when you left him, it woke something inside of him. He wasn't himself. He started doing drugs, which you knew, but... You didn't really know." Seunghyun's voice trembles. "He'd come to me, sometimes, and I'd have to watch him come down... I'd have to help him through withdrawals, and sometimes he'd get better, but only for a little bit."

Youngbae chews his lip, watching the sadness take over Seunghyun's face.

"We'd clean him up. For a couple of weeks, usually a month or two at most... It'd be like nothing ever happened, you know? He'd just be starting back on the drugs when you'd find them. When you'd call him out and shut him down... He let you find them, every time. He wanted you to find them. He wanted you to yell."

"Why?"

_"Because. At least he spoke to me."_

_Seunghyun scoffed as he helped Jiyong tie his hair back. "He screamed at you, Jiyong. I don't think that counts."_

_"Of course it c-counts. It's the most... The most he's spoken to me in..."_

_"Since last time." Seunghyun finishes as he leans Jiyong upright against the headboard._

_Jiyong pouts and tries to shift, but he's quickly stopped by Syunghyun. "Wanna lay down..."_

_"You can't. If you throw up, you'll choke. You have to sit up."_

_Jiyong leans forward, but he moves too quickly and nearly knocks himself off balance. Seunghyun barely catches him from falling straight off of the bed. He puts Jiyong back into the place he originally put him. Seunghyun wasn't tired of this in the slightest. He preferred this, actually. He preferred Jiyong to be here, with him, rather than shooting up out on the street or coming down in the cold._

_He'd been hiding Jiyong's addictions for a while now. It was easy to pass it off as an illness because that's what it was. Jiyong was sick. They lied, frequently. They'd been passing it off as the comings-and-goings of a cold each time, and it was easy to do. With how often Jiyong had been sick when he was younger, Youngbae bought it. As far as the others were concerned, if Youngbae believed it then it must be true._

_They could never think of something so ill of Jiyong. When he'd get busted, they had their suspicions, but it was never anything more to them than that._

_Once Jiyong and Youngbae had broken up, Jiyong's on-again, off-again cycle of drugs and withdrawals was broken and instead replaced with a steady stream of on. It was like the switch had broke before it could be used again, and no matter what Seunghyun did or said he couldn't stop him. Seunghyun wasn't even in a place to try and care for Jiyong and his addictions. He was barely dealing with his own addictions._

_He'd barely finished popping pills when he'd knocked on Jiyong's door that day. He'd stood there, unsure of how long had passed with no response. He knocked again and still got nothing, which wasn't unusual for Jiyong, who was normally asleep when he arrived anyway. He didn't want to knock again, but he felt the goosebumps creeping up his spine and the back of his neck._

_He had a horrible feeling about whatever was happening inside, so he pulled his keys from his coat pocket and all but stabbed the key into the handle. He pushed the door open, heart dropping to the floor the moment he'd stepped into the house._

_Jiyong lay in a heap on the floor, his clothes swallowing his tiny form. His hair was matted to his forehead and he was covered in sweat. Seunghyun couldn't see his chest moving. It was clear he'd vomited on himself, and that was more than enough for him to lunge forward and yank Jiyong onto his side._

_He sobbed as he wrestled his phone from his pocket and desperately tried to find Jiyong's pulse as he called for help._

The hotel room was silent aside from Seunghyun's occasional sniffling. "His heart stopped... Twice."

Youngbae would have shivered at the near-freezing temperature of the room if it were more shocking than the news he'd just been told. "He died?"

Seunghyun nods and sniffles again. "Twice... If... If I'd been five minutes earlier, maybe... He would've been in the hospital long before that."

"Be thankful for your timing... If you'd been five minutes later, he'd be gone."

Seunghyun looks up from where he'd wrung his hands together and sighed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Jiyong, still outside on the balcony. Standing, he made his way to him.

It took everything in him not to reach out and touch him. Every time he saw Jiyong he wanted to cry. Especially now, at the sight of him falling asleep standing up, a fresh high running through his veins. They'd been so preoccupied that they'd missed it completely.

"Come to bed, Jiyongi..."

A small, sad smile dances across Jiyong's lips. He looks as though he wants to say something, but he simply shakes his head before he begins to stumble his way inside. Seunghyun instinctively steadies the younger man with a hand to the hip, and it makes Jiyong laugh as he closes the door.

"Even in death, you're still doting over me... stupid..."

Jiyong was out before his head ever hit the pillows.


	24. Chapter 23 // "It's always the same pattern."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "happy" first chapter of the new year!

Rolling out of bed on the first day of the tour was always the hardest. After months and months of practice and preparation, the first day always knocks you on your ass. It's one thing to practice and it's another thing entirely to perform in front of hundreds of thousands of people. The first-day nerves always try to keep you off the stage, but in this case, Jiyong had been having those first-day nerves for weeks.

He wasn't ready to do this, but he knew that he had to. Maybe, in some sick way, this would be the only way for him to ever truly heal. Maybe this would be some kind of therapy he couldn't achieve anywhere else. There's no bigger slap to the face, no bigger anchor to reality than this, he realizes very quickly the moment he steps backstage. There's nobody making jokes, there's no laughter.

All he can hear is the ringing in his ears and the heavy beating of his own heart. He thinks it might burst out of his chest with the way it's beating, but he knows that it won't. He couldn't get that lucky, really. No. That's not luck. Not today. He wants to do this. He wants to go out on stage and he wants to bring something to these people that are grieving just like he is.

He wants to bring them any semblance of comfort that he can manage to make for them in this time. He knows that it won't bring them back, but it might make their absence a little bit easier to bear. After all, all of the people that would be here, all lost the same thing. Jaeho had said the tour sold out in a little less than seventeen minutes.

He wanted these people to leave their shows with more than they showed up with. He wanted to fill the void for them, even if just for a moment. Maybe, in some sick way, he was going to use this to fill the same void. He's going to use their attention to distract him, just like he always has.

_He realized rather quickly after rolling out of bed what kind of day it was going to be the moment he first felt the bile rising in his throat. He knows it's too late to stop once he's kneeling in front of the toilet. He feels like he's been here before because he has. He's done this same thing too many times to count on one hand, but he can't stop. It's always the same pattern with him, he knows._

_Once again, the pattern is the same. The withdrawals are starting and it's too late to stop them and it's too late to have another round before he has to be on stage. He has to go out there. Luckily, he's in the early stages of it this time, unlike last time. It won't fuck him over nearly as bad as last time._

_Then again, Jaeho was sure to see him like this, and he'd know with just one look at him. Jiyong couldn't exactly hide it from him anymore, not after the time he'd been found passed out on the sidewalk from a high. Jaeho had carried his 100 solid pounds of dead weight all the way home that night and quite possibly saved his life._

_Jiyong had never thanked him for that. He'd tried, but Jaeho refused to talk about it, so he left it alone and tried to avoid Jaeho finding him again in the future._

_He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the door open. He knew it was Jaeho, which was a problem he was trying to avoid. It was too late, he knew. He must've been coughing loud enough to be heard outside the room if Jaeho was here now. He squeezed his eyes tighter closed as he threw up again, though he was just dry heaving at this point._

_"Oh, Jiyong... Again?"_

_The voice he hears isn't Jaeho's at all, and once it dawns on him who the voice belongs to, it's already too late. He turns and standing in the doorway is his subconscious vision of Seunghyun- T.O.P, he supposes. He squeezes his eyes shut and reminds himself that it's not real. He knows it's not. He has to force the sound away from his imagination, just for today at least._

The show was set to start soon, he knew. He could hear the excitement rising from the crowd as time went on. If they could see him now, they wouldn't be so excited to see him. He pushes back the newly dyed strands of pink hair from his face. He stands to the side of the stage as the large group of dancers makes their way out in the dark.

He makes his way behind the stage, hidden just behind a light panel with his piano. He chews his lip as he finds his strength to press into the keys. With one last shaking breath, he begins the song that most VIP's haven't heard from them- him- in a good while.

The dancers have come up with a soft, almost ballet-like choreography for the song, more fitting to the occasion than anything else. The crowd seems to love it, though it's clear that they're looking for him among the dancers. The original idea was to be with them, but he doesn't have the energy.

His breath trembles as he leans into the mic. He has to let them know that he's really here. He has to let them know he's always been here. The words feel foreign on his tongue, he hasn't sung them in so long. He's behind the opening, but he knows they'll appreciate hearing his real voice anyway.

"It's got my head just spinnin' round, round, round, round..."

He can tell that they know when they pick up in the crowd. He wants them to know but he doesn't want to be seen, not yet. He knows he's not ready. Not yet. He will be, soon, he can tell, but now isn't the time. This tour isn't about him, he didn't want it to be. He's got his own music in the middle because he had to, but not because he wanted to. If it were up to him, it would have just been their music alone. This is about them, it always has been.

"How can I recover it all?"

He squeezes his eyes shut and leans back once he hears the music playback above him. He remembers this day so clearly. The boys were so excited about having gun props, they looked like children. They pouted when they were told they couldn't have real guns. He remembers being told he'd have to pretend to be drunk on the set, and he remembered laughing at the word _pretend_.

Seungri had asked him what he was laughing about, and he'd told the maknae that he'd been pretending for so long, he wasn't sure if he ever stopped.

Jiyong wasn't laughing about pretending now. From where he stood, he could pretend the boys were out front performing. He could pretend the voices he was hearing were through his earpiece. He could pretend they were still alive, even though everyone knew the truth.

Hearing Daesung's voice at the end of the song was almost enough to make him lose his cool right then and there, but he had so much longer to go tonight. He wanted to avoid breaking down for as long as humanly possible tonight, no matter what. There were a long couple of moments of silence before he leaned into the mic.

"TOP-hyung never learned how to drive. When you see him in that video, driving, the car is just being pulled by another car in the distance." He laughs a little, and it seems to smooth over the crowd and give them the permission to laugh they thought they needed to have.

_Funerals are for the living._

"We're gonna get into a couple of songs I know you guys know really well, so if you could all do me a favor and sing along, that would be amazing, okay?"

He smiles as he listens to the crowd, and just before the music starts he makes his way out from behind the light panel and into the lights themselves. They scream, pleased by his presence, he hopes. The Loser music video starts playing on the screens behind him as Seungri's voice starts in his ear and on the speakers. He sits down in the middle of the stage, spotlight blinding him. He doesn't want to look.

_Funerals are for the living._

He feels more like a robot than anything as he lifts his microphone to his face. The words spill out of him like they've done a thousand times before. He feels out of place, unenthused. It all feels fake as the ghost of Youngbae takes over the music. He stares out at all of these people and feels the lie he's letting himself live in. They're singing in his place- in their places. He needs them to fill the empty space.

He stares up at the open ceiling and blinks back tears. Not now, not yet, not here.

He doesn't have anything to say to them between songs, instead, he just takes a sip of water and moves from his spot in the center of the stage. The dancers flood in, and he stands amongst them, and the people on the other side of the barrier seem to already know what's next. He wishes he wasn't so predictable.

The feeling of roboticism fills him again as he goes with the dance, with the flow of the music. Their voices fill him with a sense of dread before he takes over. He's done this so much, this should be easy... And it is, and it scares him because it should be harder to do this without them. He's performing like they never left, his stage presence still strong. He's playing off cues from people that aren't even here.

They've done this so much it's not hard for him to mentally fill in the spaces that they used to fill. He dances around their memory and he sings around their empty vocals in his ear. It doesn't hold the same weight as it did when they were here. The energy they carried is lost, only partially filled by the music video playing around him.

_Funerals are for the living._

He pauses, out of breath. He hasn't put this much effort into anything in a while, and it shows. The dancers know what they're doing, they don't share the same struggle. They've been practicing, staying in shape. Jiyong has been chainsmoking and shooting heroin. They were not the same.

He laughs a little into the mic. "I don't know how we ever got anything done. We spent so much time messing around, it's a miracle!"

He swears he can hear the boys laughing, but he knows it's not real. He blinks back tears and wipes sweat from his forehead. He gets closer to the crowd and sits on the edge of the stage. He spends some time there, probably more than he should, just chatting to the crowd. He thanks them for their support, but he can't shake the unwavering feeling that something is just off. He chalks it up to him being here alone and leaves it at that.

Having his own music performed on a tour that didn't belong to him always felt like cheating. His music was meant for his own tour and that was it. Anything else always felt like taking the attention from the people that really deserved it. This was no different. Hearing the start of his own song made him sick to his stomach. Crooked didn't belong here, but it conveyed a message he didn't even think about until now.

He wondered if anyone would understand. He wondered if he even understood himself.

He remembered being some form of under-the-influence then as well, though he knows what the problem was. A mix of too many things, drugs, alcohol, heartbreak... A recipe for disaster, and a song written in an hour.

His throat burns as he forces the song out from himself. The robotic feeling returns once again. He can do this, he can lie, he can pretend. He knows now more than ever that he's not Kwon Jiyong anymore. He allows the song to fill him to the brim. He allows G-Dragon to finally take him over and fill him with the confidence and anger he needs to power through this.

He always got the most joy out of interacting with VIPs instead of actually performing the song, and that's what he tries to convey. He can only do so much of both though, this he knows. He tries to find balance, the perfect in-between. It's nearly impossible to do, but somehow he manages and the crowd doesn't seem to think anything of it.

To them, he's the same as always, maybe just a little angrier than usual, but still nothing out of the ordinary. He's anything but normal right now, is the thing that he finds funniest of the whole thing.

At the ending, he begins to tear up for real, and that hasn't happened to him in a long time. Not with this song. He used the anger to avoid the tears but now it did the opposite and just brought the tears on faster. That's when it dawns on them that he's not actually okay. When the music ends and the lights come up and he's on his knees, fingers in his hair with tears streaming down his cheeks.

The crowd is silent, and so is he as he wipes the wetness from his cheeks and sighs into the mic. "I wrote that song after a really messy break-up a couple of years ago... I got dumped and kicked out of our apartment. I holed up in the studio that same night and wrote that song. I guess it was my way of dealing."

The crowd seems to feel his pain.

He doesn't have the energy for Sober, he knows the moment the music starts. He wishes he were drunk now like he was then. He remembered panicking over the boys then, making sure they were okay at every turn. He was like an overbearing parent and he knows it, but he wanted them safe, and if that's what it took then it was worth it.

Even now, he misses Daesung's happy enthusiasm. He loved the shoot. He loved being there and he loved playing the drums, despite his nerves about the whole thing. He was terrified to fuck it up, his hyungs barely convinced him it'd be fine.

Jiyong remembers his bout of irritability that day, he remembers punching a wall, but the why always escapes him.

He thinks it was the combination of alcohol, heat, and Youngbae. He's sure that had to be it because nothing ever irritated him quite as much as Youngbae.

Sober isn't hard to do, it's almost like performing Crooked. All he has to do is take the same energy and make it softer. Less angry, and poof. Sober. The song is over much faster than he thought it'd be.

He sits once more, wiping sweat from his face again. Now he's got a reason to be so sweaty, so he's fine. They won't know. He bites his lip, raises the mic, and then drops it again. He takes in a breath and then sighs. He's not sure what to say. He lifts the mic again and his chest feels tight like it did in Hyunsuk's office almost, but not quite. The words are still his.

"This section of the concert is going to be a little more difficult for all of us, I think... This section is more for them than anything. For them, and for you."

The faces he can see all look confused, and he sighs, feet dangling off the edge of the stage. They seem to get it when the music starts again. Seunghyun's voice plays around them, and girls in the front row are already in tears and he doesn't blame them because he is too. The lights are down so they don't see it, thank god. He knows he can hide it for now.

The lyrics to If You are some of the easiest to sing, only if he focuses. The hardest part of the song is listening to their voices. He can hear the echo in his heart. He knows that no one would blame him for not singing along, but he forces it. For them.

Even with the playback, the song is missing the enthusiasm that Youngbae always brought to it- to everything. Now it just has an extra layer of sadness that nobody was asking for.

He lays back across the stage in silence as a video begins playing behind him. What Daesung thought was his finest, despite the others making sure he knew that everything he made was amazing. They always did their best to pick him up when he was down, and it didn't always work but the effort is what mattered.

With Shut Up playing just behind him, the vocals pouring into his ears and his heart and soul all at once, he felt surrounded. Just one of the things he lost was pressing down on his chest and making it difficult to breathe. He tried to swallow the fear and sadness but he couldn't. He found himself singing along, breathlessly, more to himself than anything.

He remembered when Daesung had brought the song to him, scared and shy that his hyung wouldn't like what he'd made, or that it would just be considered bad in general. He remembered the way he'd sat with earbuds in to hear the first go of the song in its entirety. He remembered the way Daesung sat on the couch across from him, nervously bouncing his leg as he awaited his hyung's criticism.

He remembered the smile on Daesung's face when he told him the song was perfect, and he wouldn't change a thing.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek and he sighed. If he was crying now, how the hell was he supposed to make it through the rest of the night?

There was a pause, of just a minute or so between one song and the next, and the weight on his chest only got heavier. He knew what was coming, he picked the tracks himself. Nothing prepared him for hearing it in an arena full of people for the first time this tour, though. Nothing can prepare you for that.

Nothing truly prepared him for settling down next to his piano and playing it himself, to all of these people. His chest _hurt_. His whole body ached with the weight of it all as Youngbae's voice pressed into his ear. It was suffocating.

To hear the sadness over recording was so hard for him, even now. He was shown this one as well, at first, but only through email. Youngbae was terrified, Seunghyun had said. He wanted Jiyong's approval, and now he could understand why.

It was for him. It was a sadness, an apology, Youngbae didn't know how else to convey to Jiyong except for this. This Ain't It was an unspoken plea between them. Jiyong never knew how to respond to the email at the time, so he never did. He made Seungri write a response, didn't even bother reading it before he pressed send.

He tacks that onto the list of regrets he has and carries on, with the silent promise to drink about it later.

He stops, unsure if he's strong enough to continue, but he knows the show will go on whether he wants it to or not. That's just how it works.

Seungri hadn't asked him about this song, he was sure it was going to be good. He was right, and that's something Jiyong had always loved about the maknae. Despite how nervous he was that his music wouldn't be received well, he was proud of it and that's all that ever mattered. That's all that was ever supposed to matter about music, is that the people that made it loved it.

Seungri's voice held a level of sadness Jiyong tried to avoid hearing at all costs while the maknae was alive, and even now. Is this what it was like for Seungri when he passed? Was he surrounded by people, like he'd been during his life, or was he alone, surrounded only by wires and machines? How did his last moments end?

The thought of being completely alone pulls a sob out of Jiyong's chest and he's hiding his face in his hands just thinking about it. To Jiyong, Alone was a wicked reminder of the time he let Seungri down for the last time in his short life. It was a brutal reminder of the final moments in Seungri's life, and how _Jiyong wasn't there._

He'd asked the maknae, _"Have I not been there for you?"_ Only to answer his own question not long after. No. No, was the answer. He hadn't been there for Seungri and then it was too late. Seungri was dying and he still wasn't there, then Seungri had died and he wasn't there. He'd let Seungri down more times than he wanted to admit and now it was tearing him apart from the inside. He could never take it back, never apologize. This was his hell. His forever.

The guitar opening was the only warning Jiyong would have to another painful reminder of someone else he'd let down in their final moments. Oh Mom was a tale of Seunghyun feeling like he'd let someone else down, but now when the song plays all Jiyong can see in his mind's eye is the last moment he spent with Seunghyun.

All he can feel is the heat rolling off of his hyung as they laid in the grass feet from his smoldering home and the anger of Seunghyun's father at his funeral. No apology can ever take that back. Nothing can ever fix that or make it better. Jiyong would carry that guilt with him for the rest of his life- which he hoped wasn't going to be very long. He didn't want to die, but he didn't feel like he deserved to live in a world without them. He didn't deserve to make it when they'd all lost.

When the world had lost them, and he even now felt selfish for feeling the guilt and grief over them. He was sure he didn't deserve it. He couldn't have his cake and eat it too. He couldn't mourn them and still sit here and make money off of their loss. Off of their memory.

He deserved to die there, in their places. Or with them, for all he cared. He was so close, if he'd just sat still, he was sure their names would have been on the headline together when someone broke the news. He deserved to go out as they did. He'd let down each and every one of them in one way or another. He wasn't there for Seungri or Daesung, and he couldn't save Seunghyun or Youngbae.

He'd failed, and he'd never forgive himself for it.

He wipes the tears from his cheeks and stands. The lighting around him is soft, and there are no dancers to accompany him. The attention, the eyes, the silent accusations, are all for him. He plays into the piano without a word and allows the song he's never sung to a crowd to leave him without much hesitation.

If he stops to breathe, he'll crumble completely before their eyes in an instant.

"I know that it's difficult and hard to come back to me... I know that you're scared of getting hurt again."

He's not sure who he is in those moments, with the gentility of the piano under his fingers, or the soft edges of his own voice around them. The song doesn't sound as sad as it is, and maybe that's a good thing. Untilted, 2014, is a breakup song written long after the breakup occurred and Jiyong let the music tear at his heartstrings and veins until it filled them all-and him- completely.

He allowed himself to be consumed with it the moment the idea came to him, and he rode the wave of it with everything he had in him. He followed the string from start to finish and didn't leave his office until he'd completed the lyrics in a way he liked. It went through four drafts of different styles and ideas before he finally found the one he could stand more than the rest, and he'd ran with it before he could ruin it.

A tear falls down his cheek. There's only one thing left to do tonight. He wants to talk to the crowd, but his voice will be such a mess he knows nothing will come out right, so he settles for a long moment of silence with them. He finally breathes out a _thank you_ into the mic before he's walking out onto the stage, dancers crowding every inch of it in perfect unison.

They stand perfectly still, just feet apart from one another, and he stands among them, completely still. The video to Last Dance begins playing on all of the screens and his chest starts to get tighter with every passing second. His own words taste like hot bourbon on his lips and tongue.

He can't even stop himself from watching them on the screen as the lights change to follow each scene. His cheeks are wet within seconds and he doesn't try and stop it this time. He's reaching, yearning, missing them _so much_ that it physically _hurts_ him.

It pains every goddamned inch of his body to be here, so close to their faces on the screens but so far from their bodies. It hurts him, inside and out to be here without him that he cries because it's all he knows how to do. His heart throbs with the ache of losing them that his whole body shakes in front of all of these people.

He's so closed off and swallowed by it all that he misses his own lines and it fucks him up even harder when he finally brings the mic to his lips.

A shaking and empty shell of himself is all he hears singing back to them. He's sobbing through the words as he's forcing them out, and then he's on his knees, allowing the sadness to finally take him over once more. His mask shatters into a million pieces right here in front of all of them as he no longer tries to hide it from him just how utterly broken and _lost_ he is without them.

The song ends and there is a maddening silence around him. The only sounds he can hear is the deafening rush of blood in his ears and the sobs wracking his entire body. Some of them catch in the mic as he raises it to his lips once more. "I'm so sorry."

His hands shake, like the rest of him does. "I'm so... I tried so hard... I tr... I couldn't..."

He sobs more, then sobs again in frustration as he cries too hard to get the words out. When he finally forces them out, it's like whatever last bit of dust and glue was holding the dam together finally gives way and another rush of tears and body-breaking sobs leave him. "I couldn't save them."

He doesn't remember ending the show. He doesn't remember Jaeho carrying him off of the stage or holding him through the ride back to the hotel. He doesn't remember the way he sobbed and pleaded for forgiveness from anyone and everyone that would hear him. He doesn't remember being helped into his nightclothes or being put into bed.

He remembers only the pain in his chest as he cried himself to sleep over them once again. As he went to bed that night, cold and sad and alone, he would never know that the ghostly memory of this lost family would sit around him and guard his sleep with everything they had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setlist:  
tell me goodbye  
loser  
bang bang bang  
crooked  
sober  
if you  
shut up  
this ain't it  
oh mom  
untitled  
last dance  
<3


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